


Editor

by Editor1



Series: Editor [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Cult, Dark Sci-fi, Demons, Evil Science, F/F, F/M, Gen, Giants, God - Freeform, Horror, Labrat, Mental Health problems, Mermaids, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Supernatural - Freeform, Twisted Wonderland and this story take place in the same timeline you know, Vampires, Worldbuilding, and The Summoned, editor, everything is connected, secret facility, stay tuned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-03-18 00:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 113,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18975640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Editor1/pseuds/Editor1
Summary: Dahlia is a little girl with problems. Jennifer is a scientist trying to find God under the thumb of a secret organization. Neither are prepared for the orchestra that their life will become, or who might be pulling the strings. One thing's for certain: Dahlia is not quite right.Welcome to Editor. Where everything is confusing and the meta is a little nuts. Please enjoy your stay. I promise it gets less confusing.





	1. Chapter 1

Jennifer

“The mermaids in cell block fifteen are trying to get out again,” Jesse tried to say through a mouthful of pizza. 

“Who’s in charge of cell block fifteen again?” I asked. My attention was focused more on the spoils of war rather than the conversation. I found myself grinning as I held up a slice of meat lovers’. Across the table, Jesse had his eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to remember this week’s roster. Behind him, the complicated computer setup continued to spit out numbers with the loud fan continuing to whizz in the background. It was little more than white noise at this point. I’d learned to pick up the kid’s voice anywhere.

“Dunno. I think… Mason? Maybe Allison. I haven’t checked the scheduling details lately.” He scratched a mop of curly brown hair. “They like to mix and match. Honestly, I’m not sure how everyone else deals with it. How do you keep that many people in line doing different things? I’d get employees, but their whole team?”

“They’re built for adventure. Probably think our jobs are just as stuffy, you know? Today it’s rogue mermaids, tomorrow it’s the basement going through old files. They can’t stay behind a desk forever. We’re just the weirdos who choose to stay playing with algorithms and theory all day.” I stacked another slice on top of the other and slammed back in the computer chair to see just how much I could stuff in my mouth. I ended up whirling around the tiny room and knocking into the desk behind me, but I was far too focused on food. “I think we’re lucky. It’s better than having to do something else and tinkering at the same time. That pass from the general was a god-send.” 

“Funny. You uh… You wanna be alone with the pizza?” 

“Maybe give me a minute. I want to savour this.” Taking a massive bite, I let the grease settle in my stomach before trying to talk. “This isn’t just ordinary pizza, Jess. This. This is success. This is validation.” 

“Success. Right. Don’t fuck the pizza, I want some too.” He grabbed another slice and brought it onto his stained paper plate. His grin was tempered with an honest degree of possessiveness as he pulled his pilsner and slices closer to his side of the wobbling fold-out table.

“There’ll be loads more if we keep on this.” I elbowed the screen behind me with a free hand and tried to cram more pizza down my throat with the other. “This baby is our ticket right here. Her and all her sisters. The higher ups noticed us, there’s no telling what we might get to next.” 

“Not that I don’t admire your passion – pizza eating and metaphysics included, but Jen. You gotta admit. We’ve done little more than get one foot off the ground. We finished the machine, they see the success of the merge between your field and mine. But we haven’t finished anything. Not really. We haven’t even jumped. The pizza is incentive, but we’re still in one of the smallest, saddest looking rooms I’ve ever seen. And we’ve been here for months. With no change. No shift onto a new project, no bigger room, nothing but a clock that broke halfway through the year.”

“Hey, now that’s quitter talk I hear.” I leaned forward with a grin. “Today we have the computer set up to find them, and tomorrow we’re shaking hands with them. That’s what we’ve been talking about since the beginning. The higher ups already know we have something here. They know we can do better if they give us time to run the numbers through and figure out where it is. Who’s the one that programmed the algorithm to find them? Who’s the one that set up the satellites? Who’s the one that put all of my crazy antics together all in a neat little bow?” 

He rolled his eyes and his chair along with him. “Stop that.” 

“Come on, Jess. I wanna hear you say it. Who listened to me that first day in the break room when I went off the handle on my project like a fucking psycho? Everyone else ran as far away as they could, but someone stayed for the free coffee and doughnuts.”

“… Me,” he mumbled around the pizza. “Those doughnuts were stale. Okay, so maybe I thought it was a cool idea on paper. Look for something that has the ability to control the universe, hiding in some person somewhere out there. All of the ideas around here are cool, that’s how all the new college graduates get suckered in to working for The Company in the first place. Add a few supernatural entities and everyone starts to think that their project is going to work, get funded and propel them in the scientific community. Our next-door neighbors are comparing different types of werewolves. Down the hall I hear they’re trying to use demons to power machinery. I can bite that they exist, when they’re staring me down in the face. Those mermaids exist. But this? We have to make an entire system just to look for a signature of something that could possibly not even be there. It’s a needle in a haystack. A theoretical God needle. And you need to remember, all of this is based on little more than a crazy theory that you cooked up that everyone agreed had to be wrong.”

“Do you have to be so negative?”

“Not always. I was going to talk about mermaids. They got some southern ones. They’re pretty hot – if you ignore the teeth. Don’t you ever get excited, about seeing things like that? They’ve got tails, Jen. Massive fucking red and orange tails. And the prettiest eyes.”

I waved a hand in dismissal. “Keep your dick in your pants. That’s someone else’s passion project. We got our own thing going. It’s way better than theirs.”

“I think the ones currently having a nautical battle with the mermaids would disagree.” 

“Do you want to be rotated onto mermaid duty? I’m sure they’d be happy to take extra hands to deal with them.” 

“… They don’t have pizza,” he admitted. 

“That’s what I thought.” I threw the mangled pizza slices back onto my plate, then took a long chug of the pilsner beside it before lying back with a deep sigh. “They don’t get free pizza from the manager, because they don’t go anywhere with their allele splicing. We do. We get the free pizza, because someone way up top saw what we managed to do in this tiny little fuck of a computer lab, and they thought we were capable of something. They believe in us. And I believe in us, Jesse.”

“You’re going to say something crazy again, aren’t you?”

“It’s just, ever since my philosophy days in grad school…”

“Here we go again.” He took a long draught of his beer. “Alright, go ahead but keep in mind I’m not listening.” 

“No, no I actually have something to say this time. I just… I had a feeling, you know? There had to be something more than this. More than some God they talked about whatever religion or philosophy that came along when really they just had something to sell. It didn’t make sense. Everything fit too perfectly, and every time I sat down and thought about it, I just… I imagined that there had to be something. Someone made this. Before I even tried to calculate it myself with you, I knew that there was something about the world that we could find if we only tried. When I graduated, I didn’t think that it would ever be more than a dream. I wouldn’t meet someone that could turn imagination into reality. They didn’t exist. I thought that before, inside. And then I met you.” 

He raised his glass. “And then you unfortunately met me.” 

“But you had the calculations that proved that I was right, that proved that there had to be someone out there that had the ability to be something unimaginably power. Stronger than any paranormal entity that The Company had ever seen. So this pizza… This is them acknowledging we were right, together. They agreed with me when the professors back on campus never did.” 

“Right, right. Even though science could totally explain it if they had more time to figure it out. Whatever theory of the beginning of the univers they’re running with right now.”

“But what if they couldn’t, Jess?” I burst forward. “The rest of the world has no idea about the Supernatural right under their noses. Science doesn’t bother to dignify things they see as a hoax with a response. There are vampires under our feet, right now, getting blood work done to see if they can replicate a disease without having to use blood to fuel themselves. That’s immortality. No one believes in that. No one outside of here even knows they exist. The ghosts they’re connecting with to get to Purgatory? They aren’t real to the scientific community.” I fell back against the chair. “People are blind to so many things that this place takes advantage of that are real. Your mermaids are real, they have their own language, their own infrastructure, so much information that no one else knows. Why not a God too? What if they couldn’t figure out that tiny little speck that was the very beginning of the universe? What if it really was all just a giant fabrication? Every piece of evidence we think is real, everything we think is evolution or tectonic shifts or- or anything! It’s all just…”

“Last Tuesday theory, I get it. Everything was made to look like the world was old when it wasn’t. Creationism called, they want their interpretation back.” He yawned. “Jen, when you get like this, it’s really hard to enjoy the pizza.”

I pointed a finger at him with vindictive accusation. “You figured out how to track them.”

“I mapped out an algorithm that could supposedly find an anomaly in someone that showed they were capable. Supposedly. Key word. That’s all it is, Jen. That’s all we have.”

“No. It’s more than that. Give yourself more credit than that.”

“Okay, okay.” He groaned with his fingers at his temples. “It SHOULD find that anomaly. That person, wherever they are. If it’s even a person. Eventually. Even if the calculations point towards evidence of its existence, it’s possible we got it wrong. Or maybe we didn’t factor in something that’s going to be discovered by the general public in a few years. That’s not our faults, but it doesn’t make this person real. No matter how much I call it a God detector, it’s… I hate when you wrap me up in this stuff. I’m an atheist, you know.” He sighed. “My mom and dad might be Christian, but that’s why I’m not still living in the middle of nowhere.” 

“I’m an atheist too.” I nodded emphatically. “That’s the point.” 

“No you’re not. We made a God detector because of you.” 

“No, it’s not the same. That’s the thing, Jesse, it’s not a God. It’s never been a God. You call it a God because you think controller and creator of the universe, must be something out of a holy book. But it’s something different. And no one gets it because everyone’s so busy wrapped up in all of these wars on religion and politics killing each other for thoughts that we can’t even stop to think of something outside the realms of what we know. That there’s something out there and it isn’t even a God. They might not have even made this world. Maybe it’s a different one completely. It’s human, Jesse. It has to be.” 

“Can… Can I take my pizza into the break room? You’re making even less sense than usual.”

“No. Stay.” 

“Fine but stop being so fucking abstract all the time.” He took another bite of the pizza and ended up eating more cheese than anything else. The gooey goodness almost melted down his throat before he caught it. “You know, I could have ended up in Silicon Valley. I could have been making millions by now. I wouldn’t have to deal with the philosophy classes every time I show up to work, I wouldn’t even have to worry about the concept of finding God. I could just tell the Mormons to get the hell off my lawn and go back to coding. But no. I’m here. With you.” 

“Don’t pretend you don’t love me Jess. I get that you hate it. I’m trying to tone it down but that’s not what I’m trying to get at. The best part is, it’s not philosophy. Not really. It’s something so stable it might as well be a part of the scientific lexicon. But we just don’t look for it. It’s a part of nature. I think.” I scratched my head.

“Uh huh.”

“You found the exact same thing that I did. With an algorithm that factored in everything. Based on all of the theory I’ve been working towards, and it perfectly melded together. I found the theory for something that can make and unmake space and time, and you used math to show that it wasn’t only possible, but it shouldn’t be possible without it. And now we got this old girl here to tell us where to find the person it’s bound to be. Two entirely different schools of thought worked perfectly together in a way that they never should have, and both agree. Does that sound like a coincidence to you?”

“Sounds like a conspiracy theory. And not a very good one. I mean, it works. Theoretically. We can set it going all we want here to look for the next God or whatever, and it’s going to keep turning up negative.” He gestured around us. “I get you’re happy. So as much as we can delude ourselves that it’s some kinda God detector and as soon as the numbers coordinate properly we’ll find something out there, it’s still coming up negative. This pizza is a you tried star, more than anything. How much time is it going to be before we find it? A week? Two?”

“A week is nothing to the builders of the universe, Jess. It’s like… A tiny blip on their radar. They can manipulate time and space, anything. Literally. They make worlds, they make… Make. Just… All that all of creation is. They can do that. Someone with that kind of power has to be living under our noses and we can find them.”

“You’re getting weird again,” he gestured with his pizza slice. “I’m just making you happy with numbers. I’m not here for a sermon. Atheist my ass, you’re a fucking preacher.”

“Well stop calling it a God, then.” I drew back in the chair, turning around to check to see if anything had changed on the computer screen. A few more emails on a new tab, but nothing important. “What do you think?”

“I think you should stop drinking three coffees in the morning.”

“Names, Jesse.” 

“Call it… Dominos. Like this beautiful, beautiful pizza.”

“I’m trying to be serious here. This is a new scientific discovery. It’s got to encapsulate everything. Something that changes the world. Changes all things. It…” I paused at my computer. My eyes slowly zeroed in on the mouse and keyboard, and my greasy lips broke into a grin. “What about an Editor?”

“Editor… Like, for a newspaper?”

“Yeah. But they edit the entirety of existence. Copy and paste. Save as. Delete.”

“Okay so that’s great and all, really cool idea, but here’s another idea since we’re spit-balling. You should take a break.”

“What are you talking about?” I whirled back around on the chair. 

“How much sleep have you gotten?”

“As much as you.”

“Exactly.” He tipped back the last of his drink. “Not enough. I have a thesis to write for a university that I’m barely attending. My dean thinks I’m dead and honestly half the time I think I agree with him. This place has a way of letting time get away from you. But you got family that you’ve been neglecting. Your sister’s birthday, for one.” I opened my mouth to argue but Jesse kept talking, so I bit my tongue “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been avoiding your family. We all have. That’s how The Company works. You and I have been at this for months and neither of us have even realized it. No windows, no real understanding of the passage of time, you get lost in here. My calendar is the only thing keeping me sane right now. We’re going to burn out if we keep this up. Coffee can only sustain me for so long. It’s about time they give you some leave, so you can truly enjoy your success. I know I’ll be asking for it.” He raised up the empty can with a smile. “As much as I make fun of your crazy ass theory, you did something pretty cool. And you really should take a break and enjoy what you’ve accomplished.” 

“I guess.” I tilted my can back and forth. 

“You got an invitation.” He nodded at the computer. “She’s been begging to see you.” 

“Yeah, but it’s just for pleasantries sake.” I found myself glancing at the neglected phone resting by the computer regardless. The old, battered case framed a cracked screen and default background. The unread messages piled up after a while. The notifications I never bothered to clear. Her face kept showing up on the texts, that perfect picture she used for everything. Permed hair, dark brown eyes and perfect skin. She was always smiling. I was so tired of looking at it. She didn’t look like herself when she was smiling. “As much as they say they want to see me again, I know what it’s really for.” My attention snapped back to the pizza. “This is my home, Jesse. Not out there. Not them.”

“She’s in New Jersey, you could take a taxi. Rent a car. It wouldn’t be hard to just say hi to your family. Just once. I know you’re afraid but-” 

“It’s not something I can go back to. I’m not you. I didn’t grow up in small town Massachusetts with a mom who made me lunches every morning and a dad to throw the ball around with after school. You can leave it at that.” I picked at the slices of pepperoni. There weren’t as many as I had hoped.

“My life wasn’t perfect either. But I get it. I’ll stop hitting that nerve.” He held up his slice defensively. “Keep ignoring her texts. It’s your life. But in my opinion, you got the whole of Brooklyn around us if you go outside for once in your life. You could do something, you know. Have some fun, read a book that isn’t for work. Visit your old apartment. It’s probably gathering dust by now anyways.” 

“I got a cleaner,” I argued.

“Jen.” He didn’t need to say anything. That look was enough. I took a depressing bite of my pizza. Bland, cheap pizza. Too much bread. Not enough cheese. The sauce was too sweet and the pepperoni was pitiful. It was getting cold, too. I kept seeing that face again. Work helped to put it out of my mind, but talk always ended up here. She smiled in every photo. She looked so real that way. Anyone could look at that photo and fall in love.

I wasn’t hungry anymore. 

….

“Apparently there’s a hurricane outside.” 

“Huh.” I didn’t look up from the screen. The numbers scrolled by, every one of them negative, every algorithm continuing to say there was no one on Earth that had the anomaly we were looking for.

Jesse scrolled down his phone without so much as a glance in my direction. “It’s going over the whole city. There’s going to be a bad flood if it keeps up. Maybe we were right to stay inside.” 

“It’s not going to hit the basement, right?”

“No.” He scoffed. “This is the great and powerful Company. You think this building would leak? They wouldn’t want to risk any of their entities getting out.”

“I’m more worried about the computers.” The phone had been silent for a while, out of the corner of my eye. But every now and then it would buzz again. Another text that I wasn’t going to answer. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d picked it up. 

“Jen… How long have you been staring at that screen?” 

“I don’t remember. Doesn’t matter.” There was a screech of the computer chair against floor tiles as Jesse propelled himself across the tiny room. Bumping into me stopped the momentum and sent him spiraling beside me. 

“You missed the invitation,” he commented.

“I don’t care.” 

“She must have been crushed.” I didn’t need to dignify it with a response. I kept my jaw set in a hard line, and focused on the screen. She didn’t deserve thinking about. “Have you even left this room?”

“I go to the bathroom and get food.” 

“But you don’t sleep.” He frowned. “I’m already halfway through my thesis, Jen. It’s been a month.” 

“I don’t care.” I could miss it. The notification might not send and if I wasn’t there to see it, I might very well miss it completely. I couldn’t afford to miss it. I couldn’t afford not to see my life’s work.

“Jen… This isn’t all that funny anymore.” 

“Was it ever funny? This is serious work, Jesse.” I stroked the screen. “It’s my life’s work. All that I am depends on when it finds that needle in a haystack. I have to do this.”

“Jennifer…” He rubbed his eyes. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? You look like death.”

“I don’t particularly care.” 

“I know we’re supposed to get into it, spend as much time as we can trying to innovate and find new ways to help the human race. We’ve heard the spiel enough times. But this is obsession. This isn’t healthy.”

“Get me a coffee, will you?” 

“Jen.” A firm hand grabbed me by the shoulder, and suddenly I was turned around to see the usual lopsided grin of my partner changed into a look of fear. “I’m worried.” 

“I’m fine.”

“Listen to me.” He gripped my shoulder tighter. My eyes narrowed. “Please.” 

“Fine.”

“If it doesn’t happen, if we don’t find it, if our project never gets any further than this, you promise me that you’ll be able to let go. You promise me that you’ll find something beyond this, talk with other coworkers, make some friends and come with me for a beer at the bar once in a blue moon. As friends.” He smiled. “They’ll give us a year, but if we can’t give them results by then, we’re going to be cut.” I shook my head. “No, no, Jen, and that’s okay. We’ll move onto new things, and I know you’re smart enough to come up with something else. This doesn’t have to be all that defines you. We’re more than this. You’re more than this. You’re a person, if you just let yourself be one.” He paused. “Jen. You’re pale.”

“Because that’s quitter’s talk.” He frowned.

“Don’t do this to me, Jennifer,” he sighed. “I have a life outside of here. I make the effort to see people ever week. I’ve been going to a psychologist too, because this isn’t healthy and you know it isn’t. They told me that we shouldn’t be putting all of what we are into our work. We can’t identify ourselves with whether or not we’re a success. But you’re still here. You do nothing but stare at that screen all day. It’s been getting worse. When’s the last time you answered your phone?”

I glanced over to it. “Maybe I should take the sim card out.” 

“And isolate yourself even more than before? God, Jen.” His arms relaxed as he let himself drift slowly away on his chair. “I feel like I’m enabling you just by being here. Nothing’s happening. It’s not going to work.” 

“Jesse.” I turned to the screen. 

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I don’t have the religious zeal you do when it comes to shit that is so obviously hopeless.” He dropped his head in his hands. “The mermaids are having more like than we are, you know. Maybe it’d be nice to go outside. Even in this weather. At least then, something interesting would happen.” 

“Jesse.” My eyes slowly widened. I’d missed it.

“Stop it.” 

“No, Jesse. Look.” I gulped. “Look.” I slowly extended a shaking finger slowly on that single, tiny dot in the center of the screen. After a few seconds, the alarm went off to the tune of some pop song that had been number one last month. I’d forgotten I’d gotten Jesse to program that. The sound was so jarring, I was nearly knocked out of the strange fever that held me. 

“What the hell is that noise?” The kid skated his chair back to me to peer over my shoulder. There was a strained nose that rose from his mouth. It slowly changed to a low wail as he registered what we were looking at. 

“Fucking… Hell…”

My mouth was dry when I tried to speak. “I missed it. I missed when it when it registered.” 

“No. Jess. This isn’t real. It can’t be real.”

A slow, pale smile drew across my face. “If everything else is real, Jesse, why not a builder of the universe?” 

“It’s been a month. Why… Why did it take so long? Are you sure it’s real?” 

“You’re seeing it too, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah, but… But this… That’s God, Jess. That’s God flickering on our screen. Living somewhere in…” He hesitated to look closer. “Maine? I need to check the coordinates, hold up a second.” 

The blip on the screen flickered constantly. It seemed so unstable. A tiny speck in the middle of a sea of darkness. It called to me. I slowly reached out to touch the flickering dot that marked the coordinates. More data was flowing in the longer the target was locked. This little light of mine. “That’s no God, Jesse. That’s my theory proven right.” The successful completion of the algorithm was marked by another soft noise that sounded every minute after the pop song had finished. I’d never heard a sweeter sound than that gentle beep. “There’s someone out there. Someone who can help us change the world, Jesse.” 

“Lincoln, Maine,” he confirmed, with a search on his phone. His laugh sounded more like a whimper. “God’s living in Maine. Some little house in Maine.” 

I stroked the tiny notifier. 

“Jen.” He pulled my hand away from the screen. “Think about this, okay? Think about the success, but don’t let it consume you.” 

“No…” He let me pull away, but his worried gaze remained. “Jess, you don’t understand. I did it.” Tears prickled my eyes. “I actually did it.” 

“Yeah, but… Jen. You don’t even look human anymore.” 

The speaker in the corner of the room crackled to life. “Paging Jennifer Miller, to Board Room 1. Jennifer Miller, to Board Room 1.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jesse and I slowly turned to stare at each other, mirroring wide-eyed disbelief. As quickly as the announcement over the loudspeaker had come, it left. And in its place was the defeating roar of blood in my ears. 

“That was your name.” 

“Yeah…” I managed to breathe. He sounded so faraway. His eyes were so wide. It took me far too long to realize. My eyes widened when the words sunk in and even then, I kept looking at Jess, expecting him to break into laughter. He didn’t. He just looked even paler than before. “That… Jesse, that’s me.”

“It’s you. That was you.” 

“It’s me…” Without warning, I jumped from the seat. “Jesse, they called me! Shit. Shit shit shit shit.”

He sat back, shaking his head with a look of pure shock. His chair rolled around aimlessly as he stared at the peeling paint of the ceiling. “The Board Room…” He muttered. “Well fuck. I wouldn’t expect much less out of finding God. What do you even do when you find out about something like this? What can you even think?”

“Jesse, stop that.” I was pulling on the thin overcoat and throwing my phone into my back pocket while he was still riding around in the office chair in a catatonic state. There had to be something I was forgetting. “They want me.” 

“Well, yeah.” He gestured wildly to the screen with fearful eyes. “You did it. They want to talk to you. This is stronger than anything they’ve ever come across! This is a fucking God, Jen!” 

“Maybe they want my notes. Should I take a laptop, show them the algorithm? The theory, they might want the theory.”

“I don’t fucking know! Bring yourself, just go!”

A presentation – no, I’d already given them one that didn’t make sense. Jesse? No, they didn’t ask for him. But then I was wasting time here thinking instead of moving. Precious, precious time to the most powerful people in the entire organization and I was just standing in the middle of this room looking at nothing. My partner was too busy losing his mind to help. Maybe I’d lost my mind. 

I grabbed Jesse with both arms and shook him until that mop of brown hair flew every which way. 

“Jess stop sputtering and pray for me!”

He gulped as he snapped his head back up to meet my fearful gaze. “Shit, Jen. Board Room.” 

“I know.”

“That’s the board of directors.” 

“I know,” I whimpered.

“Well…” He tried to smile. It didn’t look pretty. “We did just finish our work. This kind of thing, well… They’ll want a pretty big follow up.” 

“I don’t even know what to tell them.” I stared desperately at him. “What do we do now?”

“What are you asking me for!” he snapped. “Go! Christ, just get out of here before they have to send someone! They obviously know what they’re doing. You’re the face of this project. You have to go.” 

“What if they ask something I can’t answer? What if we’re wrong, what if this was a glitch? We haven’t even had time to check.” I glanced at the screen just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. That faithful blip was still there, shaky as it was. 

“You have to be strong, Jen.” He gripped my hand and pulled me off of him. “I’ll hold down the fort. You talk to the Board. Whatever happens, you did your best. We did it, as far as we know. I’ll run the numbers, I’ll to everything I can to make sure this isn’t a fluke. Just. don’t forget who put you in the limelight, okay?” He grinned a watery smile. 

My shoulders sagged as I let out a soft, shaking laugh. “Okay. Will do. Don’t burn down the room while I’m gone. Keep it going. If there’s anything we’re missing, anything at all, I don’t want it off when it notices it. Find a name. Find a face. We have to know. We can’t stop now.” I rubbed the dark bags under my eyes to get rid of the tears. I was too overwhelmed to think straight. “Keep everything in order.”

“You know I will. Go, Jen. Run your crazy little heart out.” 

Leaving that room and not turning towards the living quarters was one of the hardest things I’d ever done in my life. I had to go right. I’d never gone right before. It physically pained me to plant my feet away from the left side of the overly bright gleaming hallway, and head towards a silvery elevator that I knew existed from maps but had never bothered to look at before. Other students, agents, scientists of all kinds littered the hallway with a rabble that I was used to. They all looked so content, so happy with their lives. Some were straight of university with their doctorates, hoping to make something that would give them the experience to go with the schooling. Some were still in the thick of it. Those childish faces walked back and forth laughing to each other like the younger the were, the more jokes they still had to tell. The smell of coffee hung in the air. They had no idea. They didn’t know what had just happened. I must have looked so stupid to them. My eyes bugged out of their skull as I nervously meandered through the hallway, avoiding the elderly man in the lab coat and a girl with earbuds dancing to her own music. Here I was, gangly, straightened hair, a green blouse that should have been washed days ago. A massive jacket I thought I could hide in. Ripped jeans that had no place in a company atmosphere. My hair was barely held back with an elastic band I’d torn from one of the pen packs. My back pocket was buzzing again. I pushed the phone further down and tried to ignore the gnawing apprehension. She was the least of my problems right now. 

The silver elevator stood in front of me as an obelisk representing all that the upper floors were capable of. Its very presence told me I wasn’t good enough to press the button. There was a perfectly good elevator on the other side of the floor for someone like me. 

It took all of my strength to not turn around and go crying back to Jesse. 

Instead, I called for the elevator, and held my breath when I stepped inside. Now I’d be seeing the board with eyes that were puffy instead of sagging. I wasn’t sure which was worse.

No one talked to the Board. They never called anyone up. They never asked for anyone. I was a graduate. A lowly graduate. I wasn’t mechanics. I wasn’t even science. I was philosophy. Philosophy that no one cared about. But I’d just done this. If I was right, if we were right, then they wanted to see me. They wanted to know me. I was going to have to stare in the face of the highest rungs of The Company. In front of the COO, the shareholders- God, the shareholders. All of this pended on them. All of the funding. All of the work we’d put into this. If they snapped their fingers this was over. They would bring me up to the Board so I could look those shareholders in the eye and have to tell them that their entire investment had led to a loss that they could never get back. They wouldn’t do that now, would they? Not after this. It had to be because of the discovery. It wasn’t going to end here. It couldn’t. Not when I’d done it. 

My skin was itching. The phone was making my back flinch every time it buzzed. I couldn’t even remember how much the grant had been. Too much money for them to back out now. I couldn’t let this slip away from me again. Not now. 

The elevator ride was over before I could even have a proper panic attack. I was left in front of the lobby with only seconds to control my breathing, before it was clear I needed to leave the space, and step onto the top floor of the massive facility. 

Windows circled the warm ambient lobby, showcasing a beautiful layout of the New York skyline. Every long cut-out into the outside world was another picturesque moment that belonged on a postcard, but I couldn’t see much from where I had yet to actually leave. Trying to leave the elevator was a more difficult task than I realised. The more I tried to push myself, the more my knees didn’t want to obey. It was only then I realized there was an actual other person in the lobby, and the stare from the secretary behind the desk was just enough embarrassment to get me moving. 

“I’m Jennifer Miller,” I stammered. “That’s me. Jen. Jenny. Jennifer.” The awkward contortion of my legs finally managed to propel me to her desk. “I’m here to see the Board?” 

“Well, you may be one of the worst I’ve ever seen,” she observed. The young blonde peered over the simple silver desk that hemmed her in to confirm my shaking legs. She then tilted her head up to meet my nervous gaze. Her subtly red lips were pursed into an amused but tempered smile as she weighed her options. “When’s the last time you took a shower?” 

“I… I don’t remember.” 

 

She pointed to the couch beside her station. A small water feature bubbled next to a glass coffee table with cinnamon hearts in the center. The crystal bowl was filled to the brim. “Sit down, girl. The Board can wait a little bit. You’re not even going to be able to talk to them looking like that.” 

“Like… This…” I nodded with blank smile. She was starting to sound faraway too. Hesitantly, I found my way to the black leather couch and lay back with a faint whimper. The water feature continued to bubble away right by my head. The small branches of the fake bonsai tree at the top almost scratched at the hair I should have wash weeks ago. From here, the Skyline illuminated the entire lobby with a bright shining glow. The sky was so blue, it strained me to look at. Summer. It must have been. No matter how many goosebumps I had, it still had to be hot out there. 

“God…” I tilted my head back to look at the stucco ceiling. 

“You don’t need to be afraid, you know,” the secretary paused from typing. “They wouldn’t call you up here to berate you.”

If only she knew. “That’s not why I’m scared. I mean, yes. They’re the higher ups.” My body tensed at the thought. “But I…” I couldn’t figure out how to explain to her what I’d just seen. 

“Jennifer, right?” I felt myself nod. She broke into a wide smile, her blue eyes sparkling. “You have nothing to worry about. I think today might actually end up being one you’ll remember for the rest of your life.” 

I caught my shaking breath, then let out a low sigh as I reached over to stuff a few cinnamon hearts in my mouth. “You have no idea.” 

“I read their emails.” 

The hearts were stale, and tasteless in my mouth. “I don’t think it matters.” 

“Well, you’re certainly dour. Really. You don’t have to worry about this. Once you’ve calmed down a bit, go in there, and let them talk.”   
“I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Key word, let them talk.” 

“… Okay.” I sat up with haunted eyes. “So, I go in there. Listen to what they have to say. Try not to faint in front of them.”

“You’ll do absolutely fine. I’ll be right out here when you come back. And if it doesn’t go well, you can cry on my shoulder.” I forced a laugh. Hacking coughs have sounded better.

“You’re cute. What’s your name?” 

“Melissa,” she said. “Whatever happens, just remember. You’re a part of The Company. You represent everyone that works here, and you need to hold yourself accordingly.” 

“Right… Right. Melissa. Do you believe in God?” 

“Not particularly, why?”

I paused, then shook my head. “Nevermind.” 

She laughed. “You’re kinda strange, you know. In a sweet sort of way. Even if you do look like a zombie.” She looked over her nails. “But zombies are pretty hot in the movies, these days.” 

“I should go.” I stood up slowly. “I can do better than this. Alright. I’ll do it. I’ll go right through that door.” It looked so imposing to the left of Melissa’s desk. Mahogany. Heavy. “I’ll do it.” I said again. My legs weren’t shaking anymore. Now it seemed they had turned into lead. I didn’t know how I could tell them either. 

“You’re not doing it.” 

“I’m doing it right now!” the struggle to get up may not have been elegant, but I hoped my purposeful stride towards the door was better. I drew back the few strands of hair that fell in my face, balled my hands into the tightest fists I could manage, and burst through that door with all the fury of someone who had called the damn meeting in the first place. 

Five pairs of eyes in suits watched with all the confidence of someone who’s time had been ill spent, as I tripped over my own two feet and landed against the cool marble flooring of the Board room. White, shimmering with streaks of black. And a bloody nose had now ruined the pristine that it once held. 

I slowly picked myself up off the floor with shaky arms, and turned my attention to those eyes with mounting horror. No matter how much I tried to stem the flow from my nose with tissues I’d stuffed into my coat months ago, it didn’t seem to want to stop. The pounding could have been from invisible drums, but it was more likely from my head. The shareholders had just seen me wipe out in front of them after bursting through the door with confidence I really shouldn’t have had. It couldn’t get any worse. 

“I… I…”

“Jennifer Miller?” At the center of the room, sitting carefully behind a crescent desk, a balding man in a well fitted suit for his overwhelming size intoned my name. His black, glittering eyes betrayed nothing as he subconsciously thumbed through a sheaf of papers in front of him. The wrinkles on his face were captured in an eternal glower. His attention was only on me. All of theirs were. Five pairs of the most important eyes in the entire building, staring at me. Waiting for me to say something. 

“Yes… sir,” I finally managed. “Yes. I’m Jenny. Jen. Jennifer. Miller, sir. Jennifer Miller.” 

“That was quite an entrance, Jennifer Miller.” The woman to the man’s immediate left had an accent I couldn’t quite place. Her glittering blue eyes were matched by perfectly put together eyeliner, and hair so coiffed that it could have been plastic. She could have been made of wax instead of skin, and I wouldn’t have been surprised. Her mouth was pursed in a thin frown when I snapped my still bleeding face to address her. 

“I tripped, ma’am. I apologize for the rude entrance, I didn’t want to keep any of you waiting…” I trailed off at the excuse. 

“And yet, wait you did.” She turned her thin neck to the balding man without so much as a twitch in her expression. “When did the announcement get broadcast? Does she think we have all the time in the world to wait for her fancy?” 

“Don’t torture the lady.” I held my breath at the new voice, and slowly turned my head around this time to notice just how young the man to the balding gentleman’s right was. He may have held himself just as statuesque as the others surrounding the table, but the slight puff of the chest showed he couldn’t hide overconfidence. His hair was swept back with liberal amounts of gel, and the olive tone of his skin had some kind of misplaced bronzer for a look that I wasn’t sure what to think of. But with his eyes settling on me, that intimidating demeanour I thought was missing from him came right back around to punch me in the face. He was just as terrifying as the rest of them, no matter his age, even if that age was younger than me. “It’s not every day someone gets called up here, especially not with every representative present.” 

The other two, a much older gentlemen with a greying full head of curls and a lady that matched him for age with penciled eyebrows kept quiet at the furthest reaches of the ring. Something about them seemed stranger than the rest. Their stares were suffocating.

“How did you know?” I finally asked. When I realized how rude that sounded, I added a meek “sir” at the end, followed by a nervous cough that splattered more blood onto my tissue. “About the success… Of my project.”

“Jennifer,” The balding man spoke again. Thankfully, everyone snapped their attention to him and away from me. I could breathe for a moment. “We have all been briefed on a description of your project. We were simply waiting for the moment it would succeed. In the mean time, we prepared for when it would. Are you aware of the nature of The Company in relation to its agreement with students and graduates?” 

“You knew all along?” 

“Of course.” His eyes glittered. “Nothing under the Company’s watch ever escapes our notice.” 

“Then… yes, sir.” I nodded my head numbly along with the response. He hadn’t answered my question. The one tissue I had left was dangerously close to unusable. “I appreciate the funding that my project has been given thanks to the organization. You are the only ones that thought my idea was capable of merit and not…” Crazy. Crazy, and it had worked. “Under-researched. And thank you again, for the… The pizza.” I reddened. 

“… Yes. Well.” The man at the head of the table eyed me for a moment, then pushed his papers to the side. “I haven’t heard of any… Pizza, but I’m glad the congratulations I ordered made it down to the right people. And I’m glad I don’t have to wait any longer.” 

“It was very kind of you, sir.” I hadn’t used the word sir in years. It was starting to grate on my ears, but with the need to know basis on names I was at a loss for what else to call him. His eye twitched too, every time I said it. 

“So you understand our organization on a basic level,” the coiffed woman interjected. “Are you aware as to the purpose of our allowance of these projects? What level is your clearance again? I’m afraid I’ve only glanced over your file.”

“I’m a researcher ma’am. How… How is this pertinent to the success of my task?” 

“Yes, but what rank?” 

“Syn, I believe she’s referring to the fact that she is only aware of one specific type of researcher,” The young man spoke with a smile. It was too wide, showing blinding white teeth in perfect alignment. They kept talking. None of them realized what I had discovered. I needed to go back and get to Jesse. I shouldn’t be standing here. “Her level of clearance is paltry.”

“I know about the Supernatural,” I blurted before I could catch myself. His grin disappeared. “The basic containment of entities for the purpose of research. I… I work in that department. I’m not clueless.” 

“We know,” the young man said with a curt nod of his head. “I, at least, read your file.”

“Then… Then I’m not a basic researcher. There’s a being, an… An… Editor.” The word sounded strange. “I should be going back to locating them.”

“Ms. Miller,” The woman called Syn spoke with a tone lacking any room for discussion. “This is a board room meeting discussing the future of your continued existence with The Company. We would appreciate it if you allowed us to continue our assessment without overzealous interruption.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I spoke out. I could have fainted, right then. I nearly did. The room was growing paler by the minute. I had to pinch my wrist to stay lucid. Too much blood and not enough tissue to stave it off. My hands were getting redder and there was a buzzing in my pocket that I’d almost forgotten about. Anything I was about to say died on my tongue.

“I believe that is enough,” the balding man sighed, and the silence returned. “Ms. Jennifer Miller is an understanding woman, but she is a naïve one. It is not her fault that she is unaware of the intricacies of The Company. That is her station. We strive to make it that way, do we not? Questioning her about things she does not have the clearance for is a fruitless endeavour.” He pulled the papers back over to himself and gave them another quick once over with beady eyes. “My dear, I promise you that we are not here to fire you, so you may put that out of your mind.”

“Yes, sir.” The fainting still seemed likely. “I apologize for the outburst.”

“The Company allows researchers to understand various aspects of The Company insofar as they need to, to complete their research. Your project required the knowledge of most Supernatural entities, and so we allowed you the according position. That is normally the reason we accept specific students in the first place. Ideas that can not be researched without the knowledge of the paranormal and therefore generate the scorn of the scientific community may be fully realized with an organization that knows these anomalies exist. The Company to you, is a research lab meant to help these shunned students reach their full potential, correct?” 

“I… I assumed so, sir.”

“Then how would we be able to make our money, if all we did was secure funding for projects the scientific community views as defunct? Where does this money come from?” The posed question hung in the air, left unanswered as I struggled to realize he actually wanted an answer. 

“I don’t know, sir.” 

“We are not here to play fairy godmother to scientific hacks.” The elderly man finally spoke up with a voice so deep, I struggled to hear it. He pinched the bridge of his large nose before continuing. The curls on his hair trembled with every word. “The Company picks projects that, if successful, would revolutionize the scientific community. Projects that our underlings know would be possible if the said researcher knew of the existence of the Supernatural. Not just possible, but probable. And then we make sure the scientific community will never hear of it.” 

I stared at the man in disbelief. The two globules of blood on my nose dripped slowly down onto my poor blouse. “Why, sir?”

“It would be far more lucrative if we were to sell it to the highest bidder, would it not?” The balding man inclined his head. “That is what we do, here at The Company. We are a business. Our shareholders are quite happy with us for a reason. There is no place on Earth that countries, organizations, and other scientists can get this kind of information or assistance for a hefty sum. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, sir,” I finally stammered. I didn’t. I didn’t understand any of what they were saying. No one at the initial meetings had ever said a word of this. My stomach churned. Words rushing in my head, none of which I could say out loud. The disappearances Jesse had spoken about all seemed so clear in my head.

“I realize it is difficult to understand why they would keep this true reason so elusive, but try to see this from our perspective,” The balding man continued. “We want to see progress as much as you do. We want to see innovation. Students have ethical standards. Standards that we are perfectly aware of, and realize are important in keeping them happy and motivated to work for us. But you’re a learned woman, Jennifer. You’re old enough to no longer have that wide-eyed idea of what science is. It’s a business. Everything is, in the end. And we have modeled our organization according to what society expects of us. In order to keep everyone on task, we may have to keep some knowledge hidden. In order to look to the future, and continue to fund the projects. The money we gain does not all go to us. It goes back into the organization, to continue the propagation of new ideas.” 

“Why tell me this? Are you selling my project? Am I going to disappear, like the others?” The five of them continued to stare. “Please I… I want to trust The Company. But people go missing when projects get completed. I understand that you need to make a profit. As long as someone benefits, I don’t mind. Just… I want to see this through. To the end.” I had to meet them. I had to know them. The young man coughed in surprise. “I trust The Company, and this system, as much as it might make others apprehensive, I realize that money has to be involved. What I’m worried about is where they go, after.”

“Home,” the young man said. “Or a different department. I promise you, we would never harm a scientific mind of such repute as finishing a passion project successfully.” I unballed the fists I hadn’t realized I’d clenched. “That would be a waste of talent and intellect.”

“We would not have brought you up here if we were intending on selling your project.” The coiffed woman named Syn took a carefully measured breath. “All of us have flown in today for the purposes of explaining to you that we wish to see your project to the very end. You are an extenuating circumstance that we would not sell, no matter the price.”

“The very…” The words were so alien to me, I had to repeat them. “What do you mean?” 

“We have always had the utmost faith in your work, Ms. Miller.” The balding man’s face drew back into a pleasant, bland smile. “That is why we’ve flown out here today to meet the woman behind the most important project The Company has ever seen. When this organization was founded, it was under the assumption that not only would we gain funds necessary to remain profitable and lucrative with new ideas generating around every corner, but it was also with a goal in mind. Project Irongate.” He pushed the papers in front of him to the edge of the desk, then looked to me expectantly. 

I took them into shaking hands and scanned them as long as I dared before looking up to the man. The faintness had returned again. The pages felt unnaturally cold in my hands. 

“God…”

“Is someone we would very much like to meet, too.”

“This project.” I gulped. “I would help you with these plans.”

“That is what we ask.” 

“But, this is top secret.” No matter how many times I read the same first pages, the words were the same. I wasn’t dreaming. “Highly confidential. I shouldn’t be looking at this. I’m not high enough rank to know this. This… This is the entire Company’s manifesto. And it all… This all depends on me. All of it.” 

“It is a serious, and prestigious position.” The man continued to smile. “And you, Jennifer Miller, will find that starting today, it will be a position you are of rank to hold. All of us have agreed. We want you as the head of this particular aspect of Project Irongate. You are the lynch-pin in the possibility of world peace and power unlike that which any human will ever know. It is thanks to you that we can move forward on plans that have been in stasis for hundreds of years. We have spent eons collecting data from worlds left forgotten. We have spent too much money to count on the recovery of supernatural entities, and precious time on this Earth when the human lifespan is so criminally low. Most of us at this table thought we would never see the light of the end of these plans. But your project, your success, we owe everything to what you have created.” 

Tears dripped down from my eyes and mingled with the blood that I no longer bothered trying to quench. “Sir, I… I don’t deserve that kind of praise. There’s so much to do, too much... Me and Jesse –“ I bit my lip. I had almost forgotten him in the sea of shock. “My partner. He did most of the work. He should be acknowledged as well.” 

“You are free to assign who you need to this task. We will give you the tools to make a useful team from every sector if need be. Whatever is required, by whatever means necessary, we will allow you to complete your task. Your new task, as given to you in Project Irongate.” He paused. “But keep in mind the information we gave you here today is confidential. Your task itself, must be confidential to the majority of The Company. You may be of rank, but your partner is not. A breach of contract will be found out. So please, when selecting your team, I ask that you are discrete.” 

I couldn’t help but nod. “Yes, sir.” My eyes were so wide they might have been bugging out of my skull. “I would never betray the Company. I understand.” 

“Of course, Jennifer.” He smiled. “We know of your loyalty. It is another reason we chose you. You will succeed on this initial finding. We are certain of it. And when that time comes, I want you as the head of this expedition towards the future. We are The Company. We are the ones that live in the dark in order to lead the world to a future that they’d try to run away from, kicking and screaming. More than that, though, we are a family. Will you accept your new position as a member of this organization?” 

“I… Of course. The Company is my family.” I placed the pages down. “The only family I’ve ever known. You’ve given me so much. More than I could ever hope for. You listened to me, and it’s led to this… I’d be a fool, not to agree. I hadn’t thought about what I’d do, after finding the being. I have even more of a purpose than before.” I hesitated a smile. “Thank you… Sir.”

“Please.” He put a hand to his chest. “You can at least have my code. Corporal thirty-two. You won’t be answering to me directly, but if you ever find yourself in a situation where your managers aren’t giving you the tools required, you are allowed to mention me. You have complete jurisdiction over this aspect of Project Irongate. Everything this organization has to offer is at your service in completing this mission. A call will be made to finalize the paperwork. You will be asked to change station within the next day. We have a far more fitting location for work of such importance. Your official position will be senior manager of the Irongate division.” 

“Sudden…” The voice sounded too quiet on my tongue. Jesse wouldn’t like the change. “Why that cubicle, for so long?”

“Before, you only required the space for a computer to calculate the task. Now, given your new goal, a holding facility would be more pertinent. We have been waiting long enough.”

“Jennifer,” the young man finally spoke again. His smile had changed. What before held so much confidence, now looked almost desperate. “The work that you will do for this organization will be the cornerstones of a future unlike any of us have ever imagined. If you can do this, it will never be forgotten.” 

I took a step back from the desk, then bowed my head with all the respect I could muster. The blood dripping from my nose had slowly begun to coagulate, but a few drops here and there landed on the pristine floor. Each one made me flinch. With heavy, shaking breaths, I nodded. 

“I won’t fail you.” 

The heavy door closed behind me. Shut so tight, I couldn’t hear a thing from the other room. It was back to silence but for the soft trickle of the water feature, and the subtle tapping of the tasteful secretary at her computer. Bug-eyed and staring at the elevator bathed in the light from the windows, I slowly crumpled to the floor in a heap.

“Well?” Melissa asked. “How did it go?”

“I’m the senior manager of an entirely new wing of The Company.” I let my head slump against the side of the door, and continued to stare at the elevator’s shimmer. My back pocket was buzzing again. Maybe it was Jess, this time. 

“A promotion? Congratulations!” Her hands clapped together with glee from her desk. The manicured nails clicked together. “I told you it would be alright, didn’t I? Project Irongate sounds like an important position.”

“The most…” I paused. “You know?”

“I’m the secretary for the Board, hun. I have to know.” She leaned forward on the desk with a sultry smile. “You don’t look too excited, though. I haven’t seen that shade of white on a person before.”

“I’m in shock. I have… There’s a team I need to build. I have to find the best people for the job since they’re counting on me. I haven’t even made connections with any of the other teams. I don’t know who to talk to – all I had was this tiny room that fit as many computers as we could get and now they’re transferring me to a new room. A new facility. A new everything. If it’s not a fluke, if it’s real, if all of this is real… I’m scared.” I looked up at her nervously. “I’m scared, because I’m not sure I ever believed that I was right. I kept saying I was. But now that I am, now that it’s all happening... There’s so much. Too much.” The floor was cool against my crumbling body. My head fell into my hands. “And if I know too much and I fail then I’m failing the CFO, shareholders and literally everyone important. And he told me his code. He told me everything. I don’t even know what I can tell you. I can’t mess this up. I can’t. I have to do it. I have to step up and stare into the face of something that everyone kept saying didn’t exist.”

“Sounds like you need a break.” She tilted her head to the side. “Has anyone ever told you that you work too hard? I could give a mean shoulder rub.” 

“I can’t have a break now!” I jumped up, then nearly fainted as the blood rushed from my head. My hands slammed down against the desk as I struggled for balance. She reeled back in surprise. “I have to prepare for everything! There has to be an expedition, recon, so much information to collect. I don’t even know the nature of the entity. What are they? Who are they? I have to go over this with Jesse.” 

“Jesse?” 

“Partner – ah – work partner. He’s going to kill me when he hears about this! A new goal, a new everything? Shit… Shit shit shit-“ The elevator opened, and I ran for it. “I have to tell him! Not everything but - shit what if I give him a promotion myself. Can I do that? What station am I at now? What can I even do? They’ll send an email. Right. Emails, I should check those. They’re on top of things, they want this to work so they’re going to help me. That’s what they do.” I tried to catch my breath. 

“Hey,” Melissa called back as I fingered the button repeatedly. Each time seemed to get everything but the damned floor number. “What about dinner sometime? You and I? Maybe that would help you relax.”

“Maybe!” I called back. The damn jerky fingers weren’t pressing the button. “I’ll call you.”

“You don’t have my number.”

“Email me!”

“Right, right…” She slumped back against her chair just as the elevator closed in front of me.


	3. Chapter 3

Dahlia

A stack of papers fell from the dining room table as I walked by in my haste. All the numbers written in little boxes red and black littered the floor. I stepped over them, but Charlie didn’t notice. Her footsteps pattered after me as she caught up, only to fall down with a thud when her feet slipped on the paper. I didn’t see it, but I heard the speed, the shocked whimper, and then the thud as she landed back against the hardwood floor. I didn’t want to see her cry again, so I kept walking. She was already sniffling, and sniffling was right before the crying, and then there was the waterworks that nobody wanted to see. 

“But the water’s all cold today! I’ll get a cold!” She called back to me. The floorboards creaked as she struggled to pick herself back up.

“You don’t have to come,” I said. “Just stay home.”

“Mom said we have to go together if you’re going to go down to the creek. And I want Remmy.” 

“Mom is busy.” The papers were scattered after Mom had put them in a careful pile. She’d been looking at them for hours. And swearing. A lot. She’d swear more if she noticed what Charlie had done to them. And she’d probably swear if we were underfoot. That’s why I’d be down at the creek, away from either of them and somewhere where their voices didn’t grate on my ears. I didn’t need mom yelling at me to know that she probably thought I’d done something wrong. But she always yelled anyways.

Charlie followed at my heels past the threshold of the kitchen and onto the untamed lawn, no matter how fast I tried to walk. Grass licked at my ankles. Her dress caught on the shrub by the window. Instead of trying to carefully untangle it, she ripped the plant up until half the roots churned the soil and were ripped out of the ground, then kept going. The ripping of fabric followed. “Wait up!” 

“No.” I didn’t need to look at her to hear the crying in her voice. “I don’t want to deal with crybabies.” 

“You never let me play with you. I’m not allowed to leave you alone, mom said!” The whine was only getting louder. There was quiet out here, quiet that I could have in peace if it weren’t for the whining. But she never stopped and this time she was relentless. All I wanted was quiet and my spoiled brat of a little sister wouldn’t even let me have that. “I’m not allowed to leave you alone,” she repeated, closer this time. “You always go by yourself, and Mom gets worried. We can play down there together.” Her hands were scraped from the shrub, but she held them out to me anyways in an expectant pout. “And can I have Remmy? He looks lonely. And he’s mine.”

“No.” I held the stuffed cat closer to my chest. The black and white fur was stained from all the juice boxes she’d spilt on him, and he smelled disgusting. But his black eyes were still shiny. 

“But you had Remmy for a whole month.” She stamped her foot. “I let you borrow him, but I want him back!”

“You’re not getting him back.” I turned around to face her. Her big brown eyes were swollen with tears. The short locks of her hair were greasy, filled with leaves from the bush and damp. A large tear from that dress she loved so much ran from the knee all the way up to her thigh. Mom would blame me, of course. “He’s not yours anymore. You don’t deserve him. All you do is get him dirty.”

“But mom got him for me.” She was going to cry again. “For my birthday. I let you have him for a month and you said you’d give him back. I can’t sleep at night without Remmy.” I rolled my eyes and turned back around to the tree line. 

“He’s disgusting because of you.” 

“It’s not my fault I spilt some juice. It was Tom, he made my hand slip!” The grass gave way to rock the closer we got to the edge of the forest. Her shoes slipped between each wet stone as she ran to catch up with me. Her legs were tiny and weak, and threatened to give out with every step. Her whole body was like that, really. That’s what made Charlie, Charlie. She always had to run to keep up with me, and even then, she’d whine about it the whole time. 

“You shouldn’t have brought him to class, then.” 

“It was for show and tell!” She cried. A thought seemed to strike her. “You’re not going to put him in the creek, are you?” 

“No.” But if she sounded so scared that I would, maybe I’d consider it. It might make her go away. And the look on her face would be better than crying. 

“Then give him to me. At least for a little bit…” 

“No.” 

“This isn’t a funny joke anymore! I’ll tell Mom. She’ll give him back to me. She always says you pick on me and you have to stop.” The running stopped behind me, but I kept walking. The tiny path I followed was really run off from all the rain water that had washed down. The real path was a mile away, at the edge of a dog park that was always filled with dog poop and annoying dogs with annoying people. But this path was quiet, even if it was difficult to get down. It was wide enough that it kept the branches from getting in the way, and filled with sand and stones that I wouldn’t slip on as long as I was careful. The grass wasn’t there to get my socks wet, and the poison Ivy roots were all washed away. On either side, the forest slanted downward towards my goal, I could navigate the slope as long as I just took it one step at a time, and gripped the trees that lined the side of it just in case I slipped. It would have been nice to sit on a fallen log on the side of the path. I wouldn’t even have to go down to the creek. I could just listen to the quiet, and maybe shove the stupid cat in the hollow of a tree. But Charlie made that impossible. If I stayed, she’d try to rip the stuffed toy out of my arms. I’d never be able to hide it from her with her breathing down my neck.

“Dahlia!” I didn’t turn around fast enough, and nearly fell down the steep hill when my stupid sister bumped into me. I had to brace myself between a tree I’d thankfully grabbed. The shallow roots were just like that bush, and the creaking from the strain put my teeth on edge. I hadn’t heard her. I was too busy trying to look at something else, I hadn’t even bothered to check if she was still following me. 

“Charlie!” I hissed. A sharp shove sent her back from where she’d run at me. Her knees slammed into a rock where she landed. For a second, she looked shocked. Then her eyes watered, and she burst into more tears. 

“My knees!” She wailed. 

“You know you’re not allowed to touch me! Go back inside.” I dusted myself off, then carefully walked between two larger stones. Her crying continued. I didn’t want to be near it. My arms reached out to brace the boulders on either side as I carefully hopped over them, then landed on the other side. My pant leg almost got caught, but with practice I’d learned to twist at the last second to keep from face-planting.

The sound of rushing water was getting closer, and the line of trees were starting to thin out. Sunlight dappled and hit each leaf, reflecting the water droplets like crystals. The air was fresh after a rainstorm. I could take a deep breath and feel the water. The creek would be high today. Maybe I’d see a fish. Maybe something interesting would happen. 

“My knees are bleeding, Dahlia!” The way she said my name when she cried made me want to hurry up and throw Remmy into the water. Maybe I should, just to spite her. She didn’t deserve the happiness he gave her, not when she was whining all the time. I couldn’t understand why she’d gotten him in the first place. It wasn’t like she’d done anything good. And I didn’t really care about the cat either. He looked kind of weird. Those button eyes watched me when I slept, because I couldn’t leave him alone. Then Charlie would think she could actually come into my room and take him, even though she knew she wasn’t allowed. It was just a cat. Not even a real one. It wasn’t that big a deal whether he’s here or at the bottom of the stream. And if she liked him so much, she could get another cat. And then maybe she’d learn her lesson that I was the one who decided what she got to have. 

“Go get bandages then,” I called from over my shoulder. I was almost there. “You know how to put them on.”

“But it’s bleeding.” Her voice was getting closer again, this time punctuated with whimpers and whines as she slipped on every rock she could find. “It hurts a lot. I need help.” Her moans of pain grated violently on my ears, so I turned to get away. A few more steps and I’d made it to the creek, all the while gripping the cat’s neck as tightly as I could. The trees framed the deep, thin gouge that struck from one bend to the other, with nothing but deep forest on the either side. I’d been through there, too, but that was even less interesting. 

A small bump nudged my back. I turned sharply aside, but Charlie kept walking. Large chunks of rock had gouged holes into her knees, leaving thick seeping red cuts that swelled with blood and dripped all the way down to her thighs, staining her already mangled dress. She nearly fell into the rushing creek before she realized that she had already followed me all the way there. “Oh.” The swiftly moving water lapped at the very edge of the bank that had seemed so tall before. Now it was nearly overflowing. The water was higher than I had ever seen it, and muddy from the rain. My frown deepened. I wouldn’t be able to see any fish today. 

Charlie took another step, then crouched painfully by the violent water to put her scratched hands in. They pushed against the current so hard that she had to pull them back to keep from falling in. Her startled eyes turned back to me, the pain from her knees obviously forgotten. “It’s so deep and wide today.” 

“You shouldn’t be here.” I turned and started towards the massive boulder that stretched out from the bank to almost half way into the creek. The peninsula was surrounded by a thin line of dead grass and accumulated leaves from the river. Grooves in the smooth, bleached stone meant that a bunch of kids had probably climbed it before me, and the water had carved it out where they couldn’t. My castle might not have been big, but it was mine.

The rainwater dripped down from the small groove at the top of the boulder, down in rivulets across the indents. I dug one hand and both my feet in with some struggle. The other firmly gripped Remmy by the neck, hard enough that I could imagine his stuffing coming out through his face. Having to hold onto him made the effort of climbing annoying. I almost stopped halfway through, but then I noticed Charlie walking towards me again, I turned towards the top with my teeth gritted. When I reached it, I swung down to sit cross-legged, and sat the wretched cat between my legs to face the roaring current. I peered over like her, but I wasn’t happy with what I saw. The mud made it impossible to see the bottom. When it was low, the creek could be crossed easily by me, though Charlie always made it difficult for no reason. But now, the water looked like it would come up nearly to my chest. And the current was too strong to swim in. It was probably gross in there anyways. 

The birds were getting loud too, now that the rain was over. They competed with Charlie for how annoying they were. Maybe it would have been better if I had stayed home. I could have convinced Charlie to leave. Then I would have the house to myself, except for Mom. 

“You can’t come up here,” I warned her as she approached my rock. I twisted my body around to block the way up, kicking my feet in front of the grooves.

“I just want to play castle with you. Can’t I? We could play let’s pretend, like we used to. Remmy can be the prince.” 

“You don’t listen to me anymore, so I don’t want to. You don’t know how to play let’s pretend.” 

“I do so. You just only want to play with you telling all the rules. And that’s not fun.” Her tiny body pressed against the side of my rock as she looked for the holds that she wouldn’t be able to use even if she tried. “Can’t I have Remmy just for one second? Just to say good bye if you’re gonna take him?” 

“You’ll run away with him if I do that.”

“But then I’ll be gone.” She smiled. I frowned. She would be gone. But she’d be gone because she made me give her something. I couldn’t let her have that. 

“No,” I repeated. “You’re being an ass.” 

“You said a swear word! I’m going to tell mom.”

“If you do, then I’ll throw Remmy into the creek.” I gripped the cat tightly by his neck, stood up, then lifted him over the roaring water below. “Maybe I should do it anyways.” I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t listen to me anymore. Maybe I should show you what happens when you don’t listen.” 

“No! Dahlia, please!” Her eyes watered as she desperately struggled to climb the rock. “Remmy’s my best friend. I can’t sleep without him. There’s monsters in my closet and he keeps them away!” 

“You need to grow up.”

“You need to… To stop being a bully!” Realizing she couldn’t seem to climb the sheer side of the rock, she started to shimmy her way along the face of my castle. “You’re just a big bully, that’s what you are!” The small ring of plant matter that had grown and died around the entire rock made just enough space for her to waddle along. But with every step, the plant matter seemed to dip under her weight. The water lapped at the edge, threatening to submerge the entire ring with every step she took. She had to move quicker if she wanted to get to the side of the rock that was easier to climb. Right on the front of the creek, the boulder dipped enough that if she really tried, she could make it. It was shallow enough that even a baby like her could climb it. But it was a stupid idea. Her eyes were on the cat, watching it fearfully even as I pulled it away from the water. She wasn’t paying attention, and her weak arms could do little more than grip the sheer rock face.

“You’re going to get hurt if you do that,” I warned her. I stared down at her pathetic form. “You can’t make it to the other side.”

“I just want Remmy! Give me back Remmy, and I’ll leave you alone. I’ll go back inside, I won’t even tell mom you said a swear!” She continued inching her way along. The plant matter underneath her had been loosened from the recent rain storm and each step threatened to let it fall away completely. No matter how fast she went, it was still giving out. It dipped down further and further, until she almost had the water at her shoes. She could easily go back, if she tried. She could just hop onto the shore. But she didn’t. 

“You’re not getting Remmy. Just go back home, and stop bothering me.” She flinched under my glare, but that didn’t stop her. 

The ground beneath her was starting to sink into the water. Still, she didn’t notice. Stupid. I kept telling her to go back, and she wouldn’t listen. She never listened. 

“Please,” she whimpered. She cried out when she felt the rushing current wash against her shoes and soaking her socks. She was startled when she felt the water, and when she looked down, that’s when the screaming started. The reeds and grass were all turning to mush and she was refusing to move. “Dahlia, I’m sinking. Help me up!”

“Go back to the shore.” I pointed. “Just walk back.”

“I can’t!” With panicked eyes, she began to struggle to try to climb the rock face again instead of continuing to make her way to the easier incline. She was only inches away, but she didn’t seem to think in her panic. But now there weren’t even any grooves in front of her, just a few cracks that wouldn’t get her to the top. She only sank lower as she struggled, holding on to whatever minuscule ridges she could. “Dahlia, I’m really sinking! I’m gonna fall, the river’s really strong!” The plant matter beneath her was sinking ever farther, and now she was up to her knees in the dirty water. Her hands were only just grasping the tiny cracks as the current pulled at her thin frame. 

“It’s a creek.”

“The creek! The creek! Dahlia, please, I can’t hold on!” 

I bit the inside of my cheek as she continued to scream. My head was starting to pound from all the noise. She out-competed the birds now, and she wouldn’t shut up. It hurt. There was so much screaming. I tried to focus, if only it wouldn’t hurt so much. But the colors at the corners of my eyes were changing and getting stronger and stronger until fireworks were going off and I suddenly found myself on my knees. 

“Dahlia!” She was crying again. 

“Give me you hand,” I said. One arm was still firmly wrapped around Remmy, but the other was held out to her. “I can’t pull you up if you don’t let go to grab my hand.”

“I’m too scared! I can’t swim, Dahlia!” 

I paused, staring down at her terrified eyes. The pain was only getting stronger, the more I stood there and watched. She obviously wasn’t listening. She never listened. 

“You’re not listening to me. You need to take my hand.” 

“Dahlia, please! The water is so cold!” She stared at me, rolled her eyes to look at my hand, then let go to grab it. For one split moment I felt her tiny hand in mine. But she was never strong enough to hold onto anything. 

With one last scream, the dirt beneath her completely fell away. The current snatched her body and sent her flailing at first against the boulder, then bursting downstream in mere seconds. I snapped my neck back to see her screaming head still above the water, still calling for help, right up until it collided with an even larger boulder halfway down. That one had always been on the other side of the forest. It was too tall to climb. Now, the sickening crack that followed led to a blissful silence, and a dark red stain on the face of the boulder. 

Charlie was pushed up against the rock for another moment, then drifted down further with the current, until she eventually sunk beneath the muddy water and out of sight. 

I looked down at Remmy, then gripped him closer against my chest as I stood up. Carefully, I slide down the side of the rock onto the shore, then started to trek the way back up towards the house. The ground was harder to navigate going uphill more than it was going downhill, and with every step I had to watch my feet carefully to make sure I didn’t slip on any wet stones. I had to grab onto the rocks with my one hand while keeping Remmy balanced in the other. When I finally got to the top and could see the edge of my lawn, I paused to catch my breath. I turned back around to see the trees. There was no creek anymore. I was far enough away that everything was hidden again. 

I turned back, and walked into the house.


	4. Chapter 4

“Today’s a nice day, isn’t it?”

“I guess.” 

“Well, Dahlia. You and I got to talk to each other last session for a little while. But why don’t we start by telling me how you feel today? Let’s talk more this time. Focus on each other.” 

“No.” The simple window framed a parking lot that stretched onward for what seemed like a mile, until it eventually connected with the one main road of the town. The tall, steepled church stood like a foreboding obelisk to the right, at the far end of town. Further off, clusters of smaller summer houses centered around one of the lakes that I wish I was at right now. If I squinted, I could almost see the other kids playing in the water. I could be swimming instead of talking again. It was too hot in here. 

“Dahlia,” the woman with the clipboard set it down, then slouched her frame to try to catch my eye. Her eyes were black, small, and constantly smiling, and straight thin strands of her hair were tied into a neat, maintained bun. She looked more like a banker than a psychologist. That navy blouse tucked into a skirt that ended at the knees she kept firmly together. Her shoes looked like they hurt to walk in. “We’ve had plenty of time to introduce ourselves. I let you play with the dolls, and the puzzle. I even let you bring Remmy in. But I feel like you don’t want to talk to me. I feel like you’re looking for ways to put off talking about what happened, and how you’re feeling. But we do need to talk some time, okay? That’s what your mom wants.”

“I don’t care.”

“But more than anything, that’s what I think you want. Right? A nice, safe place to talk about whatever it is you’re feeling.” 

Remmy slouched against the uncomfortable leather couch beside me. His body melted into it the same noncommittal way I did, but his eyes were alert, and he stared at the woman accusingly while I kept my mind on other matters. While I watched the world go on without me, he lay in wait for the psychologist to try and guess me. Now that he was clean, with no juice stains in sight, he was good as new. 

I pulled him into my lap. He was too far away. “I don’t need to talk about anything,” I said. “I don’t care.”

“Well, we don’t have to start off this conversation with anything important, if you’re uncomfortable. We could talk about the weather at first, or something else. Maybe school. How do you feel about school? I hear you’re going into the sixth grade in the fall. That’s a big step. After that, you’ll be going to middle school. You’ll even get your own locker. Are you excited about that?”

“No.” 

“Don’t you have any friends that you’re looking forward to seeing? Are you going to hang out with them during the summer?” 

“No. I don’t have any friends. Kids are stupid.” 

“What do you want to talk about, then?” She sighed. “I’d love to talk about the things that interest you.” 

“I don’t have anything that interests me.” My grip tightened on the stuffed animal.

“What about your cat, Remmy?” She offered a carefully practiced smile. “He seems interesting. I’ve never seen a cat like that before. He looks hand stitched. And those are pretty eyes. Where did you get him?” 

“Charlie.” She didn’t falter.

“I see. And how do you feel about Charlie?”

“Nothing. My sister is dead.” I waited for a reaction, and held Remmy closer. It took a second for her to catch what I’d said. Her eyes widened, then she pursed her lips. A minute passed before the shock had settled.

“Yes, Dahlia. It was a terrible accident. How do you feel about what happened?” Her tone was carefully even as she picked out each word. 

“Nothing. She’s gone. And I don’t care. But that’s why mom wants me here.” 

“Why do you think your mom wants you to be here? How do you feel about your mom having us talk to each other?” She was grabbing the clipboard again. The pen in her hand clicked as she pressed it to the paper, but her eyes were on me. I gripped Remmy tighter, and narrowed my eyes.

“She won’t let it go. She sent me here because Charlie’s dead and I saw it happen, and she thinks because of that, there’s something wrong with me. So she’s having me talk to you.” I tugged on Remmy’s ear. Not hard enough that it would break, but the stitching pulled taught until I could see the black thread tighten underneath. “My mom is stupid.”

“Stupid?” She paused. “Do you love your mother, Dahlia?” 

I thought for a moment, watching the ear pulled taught. As I let go, I caught her eye. I couldn’t read her as easily as anyone else. Maybe that’s why I thought she was annoying. Or maybe she was just too loud. “No. She doesn’t love me. She thinks I did it.”

“Oh, Dahlia, I’m sure that’s not true.” She gave me another fake smile again, this one trying to show some kind of sympathy. “What happened was a terrible and tragic accident. And you were a victim too. What you saw must have hurt.” I lowered my eyes to look at Remmy again. “We’re here to listen to you, and to help you get through something that you should never have had to go through. You know you’re not alone, right?” 

I shook my head. “You don’t understand.” And I wasn’t going to explain it to someone like her. “But it doesn’t matter what my mom thinks.” The clock ticking on the wall above the psychologist’s head said there was another twenty minutes left where I had to talk. Every tick on the second made my eye twitch. It was overwhelmingly loud, in a quiet room. “She thinks I let her die. But in the end, it’s better that she’s dead.” 

“Why is that?”

“Now she won’t have to worry about paying the bills. She only has one kid.” I watched the psychologist slowly pale. “There’s just me now. I can have all the things that Charlie didn’t deserve. Like Remmy.” I held him up to show her. “I washed him, so now he looks fine. And I don’t take him to school, because I’m not stupid. He’s just a dumb stuffed toy, though.” I set him back down on my lap, and gazed at the stitched face. “He’s boring.” I gave him another, closer look, then frowned. “I don’t even care about him.”

“Did you think your little sister was dumb too, Dahlia?” 

“Yes,” I said quickly. “And an ass, like I always told her she was. And she got herself killed because she wouldn’t listen to me.” I eyed the psychologist’s hands. They were steady, but only just. The one that held the clipboard was dangerously close to dropping it. But she kept trying to regain that fake smile again. She was still looking for an opening. “She never listened to me. And that’s what got her killed. Do you want to know what happened that day?” 

“Maybe we should talk about something else. It seems like you’re trying to look for ways to shock me, and maybe it’s because you’re afraid. But you don’t need to be afraid, Dahlia. I’m your friend. At the very least, I’d like to be. You seem like a nice girl.”

“You’re not scary. You’re sad.” I kept my gaze steady with hers. “You’re afraid.” 

“Why do you think I’m afraid? I don’t know what you mean by that. I’m just here to listen.” She kept her voice monotone in an effort to not let it squeak in front of me. And maybe she thought she’d succeeded. 

“Stop asking questions, then, and listen. I kept telling her to get away, and she wouldn’t. She kept walking further, further out, and she wasn’t even strong enough to hold onto my hand. So, she got her head smashed against a rock. It crunched, like a dog crunches a rawhide.” 

“Dahlia, you’re trying to shock me again.” 

I looked down at my hand, flexed the fingers into a fist, then let go, and went back to holding Remmy. “I’m just telling you what happened. I didn’t do it. But my mom says I did. No one else around here talks about it. At the funeral, everyone pretended it was a terrible and that she was some happy little kid that was so smart and died when she shouldn’t have. No one wants to talk about how she was so dumb that she got herself killed because she wouldn’t listen. No one listens. And that’s what gets them killed. She was too stupid. So, she’s dead. And I’m still here, because I’m the one that has the right answers. But mom doesn’t believe me.” 

“Why do you think you have the right answers?” 

I looked up to meet her eyes. She was younger than mom, and not nearly angry enough to deal with kids. She kept thinking she would see something that she could latch onto, and me talking too much led to her writing too much. “Because I’m still alive, and she isn’t,” I suggested. The longer I stared at her, the more she wanted to turn away. “The answer is listen. Which you’re not really doing.” 

“I’m listening, Dahlia,” the woman finally relented. “I hear what you’re saying. So, can I ask you for answers, since you know all the right decisions?” 

“… Fine.”

She cleared her throat. “Do you ever feel positively about anything, Dahlia?” 

“I want to go swimming.” I glanced out the window again. 

“Do you like swimming?”

“I guess… Not really. It’s just something to do. It gets boring, after a while.” But under the water, it was quiet. She scribbled on her pad of paper, then flicked her eyes back to me. 

“Do you think your mother listens to you?” 

“No.” I tilted my head up at the ceiling, and tried to picture the last time she’d smiled. 

“How does your mother treat you?”

“Fine. Now that there’s more money, I can get what I want.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “She doesn’t like me,” I added. “But she feels bad about what happened. Now, because I’m the only one left, she’ll give me things. There’s no one else to give things to.” 

“Do you love your sister, Dahlia?” 

The sun was shining so bright that the pavement outside could cook an egg. The shimmer on the vehicles reminded me of the shimmers I got at the corner of my eyes when things got too loud. Things were shimmering again. The sun was too bright. 

“Dahlia.” 

I turned away from the window, took a breath, then looked the woman in the eye. “No,” I said. “I hated her. I’m glad she’s dead.”

When the clock said our hour was over, the woman stood up with a clip board full of notes that she kept angled away from me and I was ushered out of the small, uncomfortably hot office. The sky-blue waiting room outside stretched as long as a hallway. Doors spaced on the wall led into other offices, each individually decorated with their own theme that each child would eventually be guided into when it was their turn to talk. Outside, the sheer number of toys that the waiting room held stretched to the ceiling in some places where books and cars were placed together in mismatched piles. Building blocks littered one corner of the room, and a barbie castle took up the remaining space on the other side. If it was clean, and organized, maybe I could walk through it with room to spare. But with dozens of kids and their parents trying out each of the individual toys as it pleased them, the only place I could stand without tripping over an action figure was the small alcove of chairs and magazines reserved for the parents. They were all too happy to let their children roam about unadvised. Those unfiltered children looked as bored as I felt and would have probably preferred to be outside too. But they’d have to say something to a grownup and have it written down and carefully analyzed for any kind of mistake in who they were. Each of them were going to have to go into a room with a loud ticking clock and be asked things they wouldn’t know the answer too. It was a test you couldn’t study for.

Every kid I passed was younger, some so young that their pullups were the only bottoms they had on. One was arguing over which building blocks they were allowed to use and which ones the slightly older boy could have. Right beside them were her parents chatting about the weather and the latest neighbors to move in from the city. The oldest kid in the room was a girl that could have been Charlie’s age, if Charlie had been the size and height of a normal kid. This girl was better at her letters than Charlie ever was, reading comprehensively through a book without pictures with her mom in one of the arm chairs. They were in an island eclipsed by bright yellow tonka trucks, and neither of them looked comfortable.

A woman with brown curls fading to white from stress and age sat with her legs crossed on one of the uncomfortable stools by the alcove. She turned page after page of the homemaker’s magazine, but never stopped to read an article. The pictures were what drew her, a sharp elegant contrast to the sweaty t shirt and faded jeans that should have been thrown out five washes ago. Her shoes were barely put together with a combination of superglue and duct tape. She stared longingly at a kitchen set up of stainless steel and checkerboard pattern, only to turn the page to a gingham flavored bedroom. I sidled up closer to look over her shoulder, but the magazine was closed before I could catch a look at the next page. Her vision was snapped to me, then slowly turned to the psychologist in front of her. The dark bags under my mother’s eyes were matched by an even darker frown. 

“Was that the full hour?” 

“Yes, Ms. Benn. Dahlia behaved very well. But could I have a word with you for a moment, in my office?” There was the slightest desperate tone to her voice, even if she acted professional. I could hear it. With one hand gripping Remmy and the other holding the edge of a chair, I watched mutely as my mother stood with a curt nod and followed the psychologist back the way we had come. I lasted as far as the door closing before I trotted over to the heavy wooden barrier, and pushed up my ear to surface. The sound of papers shuffled on the other end. 

“What’re you doing?” A whiny voice asked on this side of the door. I waved the kid off. His big blue eyes stared up at me with reverent attention. In his hands he held onto an out of date action figure with the tight grip of a toddler that hadn’t learned what gentle was. 

“Go away.” 

“What’s that?” He pointed at Remmy, ignoring me. “Looks like a scary monster from a movie.” 

“It’s a cat. Leave me alone.” I tried to press my ear to the door again in a better position, but the child kept talking. The noise was making my eye twitch. 

“What’s a cat doing looking like that?” He complained. “It’s scary. I don’t like his eyes.” 

“Go away.” 

“Do you want to play action figures?” He finally held up the toy, as if he’d been holding it back for too long. “This is Pete. He’s a mechanic and he fixes the big trucks so they can go fight in a battle with the barbies. I got some girls to play too.” 

I glared down at him. “If you don’t stop bothering me, I’m going to take Pete, and throw him out a window.” He stared up at me in disbelief, so I took a threatening step forward for good measure. He took a small step away, then another, and another until he had backed himself up into a bookshelf. He stared at me a moment longer, then his eyes began to water.

“If you cry, you’re a pussy,” I said.

“You’re… You’re the pussy.” He snapped back. “A-and I don’t want to play with you!” I kept my mouth shit as he ran back down the hall with a wail to find his mom. 

With the child gone, I could press one ear against the door and kept a firm hand on the other to suffocate any noise. I held my breath, then waited to catch the sound of the adults talking. It was a quiet, indecipherable murmur at first. But then I heard it. The first voice was my mother’s. I recognized the tired, desperate twang, the low-pitched voice and the subtle cough of the smoker’s lung. “Did she do something wrong? What did she say about Charlie?” She paused to cough. “She says some shit sometimes, I’m worried she might have gotten her mouth into trouble.” 

“Ms. Benn, this isn’t a case of grief for the loss of a loved one.” 

“What?” 

The psychologist paused to formulate her words more carefully. “I didn’t notice anything unequivocal in the first meeting, but I did see that she was very closed off, quiet about her feelings, and kept a memento of her sister’s close to her. I assumed it was grief.”

“But it’s not.” She didn’t phrase it like a question. “What did she say?”

“No, it’s not grief. And I told you before I didn’t know enough to really get a good handle on how to help her through this. And then later I even assumed that this was some kind of manifestation of Asperger’s, maybe. I treated it that way, and I let her do things at her own pace in that initial meeting. We didn’t talk much before, and today was very different. I can give you a diagnostic.” 

“Couldn’t you tell me over the phone?” There was fear there. She knew something was wrong. “What are you trying to say?”

“I didn’t want to talk to you later because I know this will be difficult to hear, and I wanted to be here for you as a parent.” 

“Why aren’t you just telling me?” The sound of my mother’s voice whimpered. “Is there something wrong with her? There’s something wrong with her, isn’t there?” 

The psychologist tapped her pen repeatedly against something hard. “I’m guessing you found her closed off before?” 

“She’s always been like that, if you know her.” She laughed nervously. “Reminded me of her father.” 

I found myself pulled away and staring at the floor. I glanced at Remmy bunched tightly in my hand, then back at the colorful tiles. I’d never met a father. I was trying to picture a face. Straight hair, like mine. And blue eyes. Probably taller than mom. 

The yelling brought me back. “So she’s not right in the head!” 

“Ma’am, please. She’s still your daughter.” 

“But she’s- you’re telling me she’s a psycho!” 

“She’s showing textbook signs of psychopathy, it’s a part of antisocial personality disorder.”

“An actual psychopath! I mean I always knew she was cold but I never – I never thought…” 

“I’ll need to do more tests, but based on the initial information she’s given me, it’s more than likely she has the disorder. I’m saying this from a clinical and unbiased perspective. I won’t label your daughter anything until it’s been proven, but I want to prepare you for the possibility…” 

“You’re calling my daughter a psychopath.” 

“I know it sounds harsh, I don’t mean to say your daughter would hurt anyone. It’s very possible to help integrate her into a constructive life through conditioning of traits. She’s not irredeemable and she’s still a child.”

“No… It…” She took a slow, gasping breath. “It makes sense.” Her voice had gone so quiet, I had to shove my ear against the wall and strain to catch the reverb.

“I’m sorry?” 

“She’s always… You wouldn’t know her. You barely know the girl. No one understands how bad it can be. God, what she did to Charlie…” 

“She didn’t kill your daughter, Ms. Benn.” The voice grew colder. 

“She might as well have.” My grip tightened on Remmy. 

“She didn’t. I think you’re losing sight of what I’m trying to say. Your daughter is innocent. The disorder she has shows a lack of empathy in reaction, even an egotistical satisfaction, but that’s a part of the problem. She needs help. She doesn’t need blame.”

“I ignored it. It’s my fault. I ignored every weird quirk she had. I just assumed she was a strange kid. And yelling never helped. No punishment ever stops her.” She coughed again. It was muffled into her sleeve. “You just told me she was a psychopath. An actual psychopath. And suddenly years of hell make sense.” The psychologist tried to interrupt, but she was cut off. “No, no, please, let me finish. I’m fine. I’m… You know, all those times I thought I was a terrible mother. I couldn’t understand how I’d gone wrong with her. I kept telling myself that I shouldn’t have another kid. Not if they were going to end up like that. Because it was my fault, right? I was a terrible, horrible mother…” 

“Ms. Benn… I have tissues, here…” 

“I’m telling you, I’m fine.” She coughed into her sleeve again. “I thought I’d done something wrong, but then Charlie came along. I got even more confused, you know? She… She was everything I could have ever hoped for. She was…” Her voice cracked up further, and a quiet sob broke through the oppressive silence. If I listened harder, I could almost hear the clock in the other room, ticking along in rhythm to her crying. “How can I not blame Dahlia for what happened? She was there. She was the only one that could have stopped it. Dahlia let my baby die.”

“She didn’t, Ms. Benn,” the psychologist spoke gently. “It’s a personality disorder, not a criminal sentence. She told me you thought that she was the one responsible for her sister’s death. She told me about what happened too. It was an accident. Dahlia doesn’t need even more reason to act in ways that are disconnected to society.”

My mother said nothing for a long time. I craned my neck closer to try to listen, but there was nothing to listen to. Nothing important, other than the subtle quiet sobs as the elder woman broke down. My mother never cried in front of me. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d done it, only that ever since I could remember, she would go into another room and wait for it to subside. In the end, she’d leave the room with a scowl back on her face, and tell me to leave her alone. But I always heard her crying from the other side of the door. 

Several tissues were ripped from that box before mom spoke again. “Dahlia told everyone what happened with Charlie. She’s the only one who saw it happen. She’s the only witness, and she told the police that the poor girl slipped and fell. It was plausible.” 

“That’s not exactly what she told me.” There was a frown in the psychologist’s voice.

“No, it’s not. She tells a different story to everyone she meets. Do you want to know what she told me? She said that she never bothered to help Charlie out of the river. She lured her out with that damned, cursed cat, and she let my baby girl fall in the water and… And…”

“Please, Ms. Benn you don’t have to continue.” 

“Allison. My name is Allison.” Her voice cracked, but she forced a laugh. “Please, I’m crying in front of you. Seems stupid for you to not know my name…”

“Allison,” The woman corrected. “You don’t have to tell me something that’s too painful to talk about.”

“I have to tell someone. I can’t keep this bottled up. And she didn’t have to say that. She didn’t have to tell me why Charlie was out there in the first place. She didn’t have to give me those last memories of her. I always knew there was something wrong with her. Even if she didn’t… Even if she was lying about Charlie, the things she put that poor girl through. You have no idea how hard it is to love a daughter that’s… That’s evil.” 

“She’s not evil.”

“She is!” My mother exclaimed, then broke down into another sob. “God, I hate that. I’m a horrible mother, to say that. I can’t even believe myself half the time, the things I think about with Dahlia. I’m supposed to love my kids, but… How can a little girl want to make someone else suffer like that? Take their sister’s food, hide their things, take every opportunity to make sure they end up afraid and alone? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to let Charlie out of the shed. She was always shaking. Every time saying that she did something wrong, to upset Dahlia. She’s the bad sister. She…” my mother took a deep, wracking breath. “Charlie’s afraid of the dark. I always had to leave her a nightlight on in her room, because she said the monsters would come and get her. And when that nightlight went out, I got her that cat, because I thought it would help her sleep… And then Dahlia…” Another sob. “She was. Afraid of the dark. She used to be. Not anymore. God, Charlie… My little girl… Dahlia said she was screaming at the end. What kind of monster would tell their mother something like that? Why does she love to see me in pain, all the time? It all makes sense, but I can’t- I can’t stop crying. I’m a fucking mess.” 

“Ms. Benn, here.” There was the sound of a tissue box being pulled from. “Your grief is valid, and your fears are valid. I have no idea what you’re going through. But I think that perhaps therapy wouldn’t be a bad idea for you either. This sort of thing shouldn’t be gone through alone.” As clinically as she spoke, her voice was soft and gentle. Like she was talking to a child.

“I can’t afford it.” My mother’s voice was achingly quiet. “This was provided under healthcare, but I don’t have… I don’t have the time. I have to be strong. She’s… That… I have to be a mother. It’s a job. I have to do it. I can’t break down.” 

“I understand. But… Maybe I could find someone for you, a friend? There might be some kind of group session you could go to. There are ways for you to reach out. You’re not alone. With Charlie’s accident, or with Dahlia.”

“But I am.” She chuckled, but it turned into a cough. “I’ve never felt more alone. When Charlie… Part of me died, that day. Dahlia killed a part of me. And it’s never coming back.” It went quiet again, and then it was just the ticking of the clock. Slowly, methodically, a minute passed before my mother spoke. “Just, give me a moment. I can’t go out to see her. Not like this. I can’t show her what she does to me.” 

The door was open minutes later. My mother walked out with her eyes carefully wiped of whatever evidence there was. Warily, she stalked out of the room. I made sure I was on the other side of the room with a book open. When they approached, I found I couldn’t focus on the words. Everything felt blurry, confusing. They were still talking, but this time it was about weather.

“Quite the heat wave. Just what we need.” 

“Not for me,” my mother laughed. Her face was as strained as ever. “I never like it this hot. Her face was still red. She should have known she wasn’t hiding anything. 

She looked to me with a faint frown she couldn’t control. “Alright, Dahlia, it’s time to go.” 

“Are we going to go swimming today?” 

“No,” she sighed. “I need to run some errands. And then I need to make dinner. We aren’t going to be able to go swimming today.” 

I narrowed my eyes, then put down the book, and pulled Remmy to my chest. “Alright.” 

“You two have fun.” The woman smiled. “I’ll be happy to see you again, Dahlia.” 

I stared up at her. “You will?” 

“Of course.” An even faker smile widened on her face. I wanted to look away. She knelt to my level. “I want to be your friend. You and I are going to be seeing each other pretty often, getting to know each other. I know you don’t like talking much, so I promise I’ll try to focus on things that interest you. I might even have some fun games to play next week. You like trivia?” 

“No.” Her eyes were dull, but she still stood up smiling regardless. 

“Well, I’m sure we’ll find something.” 

“Come on, Dahlia.” My mother starting walking, and I turned away without so much as another look at the waiting room. 

The car ride was quiet. Large, old oak trees lined the massive lake that the road curved around. Children jumped off at the big center pier in between the stands of forest, and landed in the murky water. Some of the older kids had tried to swim out to the boats further out in the middle, but none of them got close before a parent yelled at them to come back. A few had gotten an inflatable pool turned upside down by the shallows and were playing submarine. The air outside the car was overwhelmingly hot, so the windows were closed, and the AC was frosty. I sat back from the window and let myself stare at the review mirror instead. There was an ice cream truck parked behind us on the side of the road. 

“You’re going to be seeing that nice woman next week, Dahlia.” My mother said. “Weekly meetings on Saturdays.” Her left no room for discussion, so I didn’t reply. The church zoomed past us. The empty parking lot outside of the massive white building burned and shimmered from the heat. 

“Mom,” I eventually said. I looked over at the wisps of hair that cloaked my mother’s face, so focused on the road so she wouldn’t have to look at me. 

“Yes?” 

I looked at her for a moment longer, then turned to look down at Remmy. The cat was in my lap, watching the world go by just as I did.

“… I tried to save her.” 

“Dahlia, we don’t need to talk about this right now.” 

“I didn’t tell you. But I did.” I let my eyes drift to watch the clouds. “She didn’t take my hand. She was too small.” 

“Dahlia… Please…”

“You blame me for what happened. I just told you everything.” 

“You… The way you said it.” 

“I didn’t lie.” I gripped Remmy tighter. “Charlie didn’t listen. I tried to save her, and she couldn’t reach.”

“Not now.” 

“Mom.” 

“Please,” she whimpered. “I can’t do this Dahlia.” 

“I don’t do good things. Because everyone is annoying.” I looked at Remmy. “The psychologist asked me if I liked swimming. And I don’t think I do.” I bit my lip. “But I’m not a psychopath.” 

“What?” 

I held up Remmy. “When I hold this, it makes me think of Charlie. And it… It makes me sad. So I’m sorry. I’m sorry that Charlie died.”

My mom was crying at the steering wheel. I got to see what it looked like.


	5. Chapter 5

Jennifer

“One more test on the screen, then?” 

With a flick of a button on the control panel, the entire array of security cameras lit up across my side of the room. The main screen was centered on a small, warm room with wooden paneling and carpeted flooring. The furniture consisted of a twin bed on one side of the room, naked but for the mattress, and on the other a bookshelf was positioned with a few story donations dotting the sparse pickings. It didn’t look like much now, but there would be more. Everything that had been shipped at this point was already built, with one last go around of the vacuum to be absolutely certain no nails or wood shavings remained. They’d have to do it again, though, when the rest of the furniture arrived. I was expected a desk and another shelf in the next few days. Then there was the matter of toys. Toys, I wasn’t sure about. Toys were going to be difficult. 

“Is camera three working now?” The man called over to me, too busy looking across the forest of wires to glance up himself. 

“Yeah, I can see it perfectly. No glitching this time.” Camera three was one of two observation desks situated above the main testing room, only two hallway turns away from the holding facility that I preferred to call a bedroom. Right now, the deck held a maintenance crew, instead of the researchers that would eventually be seated there. The workers were cleaning up the remnants of the glass window installation that spanned the entirety of the deck. They’ve already brought in the furniture they’d moved in from previous facilities now being repurposed, as well as more newly bought pieces than I thought I’d had the budget for. I kept asking my accountant when we would run out, and I kept getting the same vague answer of we hadn’t even hit a marginal percentage yet. I was no less apprehensive. 

Beside camera three’s feed, camera two was maintaining a steady clear image of the testing room below. The largest room of facility currently housed several fold-out tables of coffee, doughnuts and sandwiches for the maintenance staff on break. They plastic tables and chairs seemed out of place with the usual Company décor of silver walls and cement flooring, but none of them seemed to mind. I could hear them from here, though we were in the furthest room from the main facility. Their laughter was as raucous as ever. 

“Camera five, then?” 

“That one is fine too. All of them look like they’re up and running now. Whatever you did, it looks like everything is finally working right. I’m glad I called you.” I looked over each of the screens in turn. Cameras nine and ten were hallways connecting one room to the other. The briefing room, camera seven, flickered for a moment, but the image stabilized with one last adjustment. Then he was finished with the wires and stood up accompanied by a jingle of keys and a groan. He’d been in the same crouched position for the past half hour. The man ran a hand through the cropped burgundy hair, adjusted his glasses, squinted at the harsh lighting behind us, then meandered over to the control panel to join me. 

“Damien, right?” I asked. His name-tag glinted against the shine of the screens.

“Yeah. Didn’t you ask for me?” He had only thrust his hands into the pockets of his ratty track pants for a moment when he squinted at one of the cameras, and began to fiddle at the dials of the control panel.

“Well, not exactly.” I slipped a lock of recently washed hair behind my ear awkwardly. It was still damp. “I just asked for the best person they had on hand to fix the damn thing. It wasn’t working and no one else seemed to know what to do with it, and I certainly have no idea how to fix these things.” 

He paused in touching the dials. I caught a faint, flattered smile. “Well, I wouldn’t know about the best technician on hand, per say.” 

“If you can fix the forest of wires, I would say you’re the best technician in the entire building. Maybe the whole of the Company.” His laugh sounded strangely old for someone far younger than me. He must have been barely into university. Perhaps not even out of high school. He turned his focus backed to the dials. 

“Which ones were flickering?” 

“Just camera seven.” I pointed to it for good measure. 

“Well, it looks stable now. But this is a finicky set up. Not the way I would have done things. If you heard problems about this again, I might just get frustrated enough to gut this and start again. It would only take me a day or so, as long as we had all the parts.” 

“We have the time. I think.” I bit my lip. “I’m not sure.” 

“The one in charge of this entire operation isn’t sure of the schedule?” 

“Well, it’s dependent on a lot of variables. I don’t want to rush anyone. I want this to be perfect.” Looking at each of the individual cameras, I could almost picture it. The girl. A little girl. Staying with us, learning from us, showing us something incredible. Something she could do that would change the entire train of thought for the universe. A little girl that I could talk to. “The source of this project is more finicky than these damn cameras, and I don’t want anything to go wrong.” 

“A lot of variables for something with a hefty weight,” he agreed. “This might be one of the most ambitious projects I’ve worked on. You’d have to have the seal of approval from the Board for this, based on how quickly it popped up. You might want to go at your own pace, but I’m thinking they might want to speed things up.” I broke out of my stupor to glance at him. 

“I know.” I couldn’t help but grin as I looked from image to image. “It’s a lot of pressure. I’m not really sure how I’m managing. Sometimes I think I sleep even less these days. But it’s not even from pulling all-nighters staring at a screen that doesn’t change. Now, I’m just excited. And nervous. And worried. I’m not sure what I am anymore. I want to see her.” 

“I read the memo,” he mentioned carefully. 

“I wanted everyone to know the basics. It didn’t make sense to keep people in the dark. And doesn’t it make you even more excited?” Dreamily, I stared at the center screen. That bedroom looked so cozy. “All of us are working together to unlock the full potential of a little girl who was hiding somewhere out there in plain sight. We get to teach her about the world. I hope.” The thought that she was merely pretending to be innocent had crossed my mind before. 

The silence that followed was broken only by a small cough from Damien. Eventually, he took out a notepad and make a few checks on a sheet while looking over camera seven with a discerning eye. 

“You know, for a manager of an entire operation, you’re not exactly the type to end up with this level of power,” he finally muttered. “You’re more of a soft-hearted researcher. Nothing that screams corporate, or anything.” 

“Well – I – thank you?” He didn’t respond, instead turning his attention to flick through the control panel’s switches. He put each setting systematically through their paces, and made a few notes on that pad of paper in his hand when camera eight refused to zoom in.

“You’re welcome.” 

“I swear you just fixed that one.” I squinted at the dial. “I was using that before, to look over the storage room.”

“That’s what I’m saying. This set up is kind of a nightmare. I might have to be the one in charge of this from now on, if you really want that dream of yours realized.”

I nudged his shoulder. “Is that code for you want to join my team?”

He grimaced. “I guess, in a way, I kind of want to see what’s going to happen. I’ve never seen anything on this scale before, with this many people and this big of a zone. Or with such an obvious stamp of approval from the higher-ups.” His eyes were hooded again, when his gaze settled on the center screen. 

“What are you doing?” I asked. I kept turning my eyes to look at that bedroom again, but I made myself focus on him. His shirt was stained in a hundred places and hung off him loosely. “As a passion project, I mean.” 

“Artificial intelligence.” 

“Hasn’t that already been done?” 

Damien frowned, and went through the last of the remaining dials and switches. He wrote a few more cursory notes when a couple didn’t respond, then looked up to me. There was a strange gleam in his eye. “Of course, it has. But no one’s ever made something so close to a human that it crosses the uncanny valley, have they?” A tiny, wistful smile grew as he stared blankly at the paper in his hand. “There are some things that people assume can never be crossed, you know? And then you find a way, and that’s breaking through into another age entirely. I’m trying to make something human. I don’t want to build something biological, but I don’t want to build a robot. So I’m making something like us, but something that will never be like us at the same time.” He scratched his head. “It’s hard to explain, when I talk about it. I get these looks sometimes.” He frowned. “Usually people don’t want to hear about her, so I’ll shut up. But she’s going to be something amazing, even if people don’t exactly know what I’m talking about.”

She would be sold to the highest bidder. 

That thought ate away inside me, but it wasn’t difficult to push it down. I shook it off and grinned at him instead. “You sound familiar, you know. I was like that just a month ago. It seems like a world away, now, when I was stuck in an office with Jesse. I think I lost my mind, waiting for that little dot. But, you know, I’d love to hear more. Even if other people think it’s crazy.” 

“Just a month? You’ve only been at this a month?” 

“Things move fast.” I gestured to the rooms. “This place was ready and prepared, just empty. Thankfully, we haven’t had to do too much renovation.” I looked back to him and smiled. “I bet she’s going to be great. Your… not-robot.”

“I might show you her sometime. I haven’t thought of a name yet. But I want it to be something good. Something meaningful.” He placed down the pad of paper on the control panel. A pained look overtook him. He said nothing for a long time. “You’re not bad, you know,” he finally said. He didn’t sound satisfied.

“You know you can just talk to me, right?” I asked. “I’m not going to fire you. God, I don’t even know how to fire people. I don’t think I could.” 

He frowned. “I saw the papers for this mission. Everyone working on this with a researcher level of clearance knows what this is all about.” 

“Yes, I made them available. It’s not exactly a secret. We’ve gone over this.”

He looked over at the testing screen, and his eyes narrowed. “I stopped caring about whether or not God exists when I was in public school. But… that’s not what this is. Everyone is talking about this like we’ve found God. Whatever religion they follow, they’re holding onto their idols and crossing their fingers. Have you ever thought about the implications?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Do you have a daughter, Jennifer?” 

My knuckles tightened like a vice around the control panel as I stared at that main screen. If I closed my eyes I could see that smile again. For a moment, I could feel the phantom vibration of a phone in my back pocket. But it had run out of battery hours ago. I hadn’t thought to charge it. I didn’t want to charge it. 

“No.” The words sounded so strange on my tongue. “No, I never really thought about that as a part of my future.” 

“Strange,” he said. “You kind of seem like the type, to me.” 

“You got a point, here?”

“I have a little sister, back in Richmond. She’s turning twelve, right about now. I don’t know exactly how old this girl is, but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s a little girl.” 

“In Maine, yes.” I furrowed my brows. “Why does that matter?” 

“We’re talking about locking up a little girl away from her parents so we can try to see if she knows if she has the power to change the world. We’re taking a little girl away,” he repeated, “and bringing her into a world where everyone is going to expect her to be something all-powerful. People are going to expect things out of her. And she’s going to be alone.” He looked at me expectantly. “I’m not sure you understand what that means for her. If I lost Ray, I don’t know what I’d do. And if Ray was the one…” 

I took a breath to try to stop the beating of my heart. The attack was passing, but not fast enough. “I know it sounds harsh.”

“It is harsh.” 

“I…” I trailed off, and looked at the screen. “I haven’t lost sight of what it is we’re doing. But I need to do two things here. Manage a girl, and manage The Company. What you’re looking at is the best I can do.” I pointed to the bedroom. “See that?” 

“The living quarters?” 

“Her bedroom. Do you want to add to the bookshelf?” 

He stared at me in confusion. 

I pointed to the bookshelf, and allowed myself a faint smile. “Everyone’s adding a childrens’ book to the bookshelf. I added some Doctor Seuss, myself. But I’m guessing ten is a little late to be reading that. I bet you’d be better at judging what kids like, right?” I waited for a response. Nothing but a blank look.

He watched the screen for a moment longer, then dipped his head. “Do you go outside much, Jennifer?” 

“Ah…” 

“You don’t look it.” I awkwardly picked at the lettering over one of the buttons. He turned back to the pad of paper and looked through the notes one last time. “I’m going to do one last check on the screens that are being temperamental and make sure everything is connected throughout the circuit, check on the machinery, and make sure that the cameras are positioned correctly throughout the facility. One last go around after that, and then I’ll be on call if it decides it wants to malfunction again. And you, Jennifer, need to go outside. Both of us should.” 

At my hesitation, he frowned. “I’m not suggesting a date. But there are some things I want to go over with you. Somewhere else, outside of here.” He looked at me meaningfully.

“Maybe,” I eventually said. “If I’ve got time.” I stared at the same lettering on the switch. He made thoughts swirl in my mind that I had to ignore. I had work to do, there was no time to question it. At that, I jerked my neck to the clock. “Shit. Speaking of which, I have to go. Now. Right now.”

“I should be heading out too.” He slouched to grab his tools bag, then pocketed his notes. “I got this meeting in a few minutes. I suppose I can go through the cameras after.” 

“See that’s the thing, that’s my briefing.” Like a whip, I flicked out the door with little more than a quick smile. “And I am very, VERY late!” I didn’t catch his face when I ran off towards the briefing room. For a moment, thoughts lingered of what he had said. The back of my throat clenched, but nothing wanted to stick. 

I couldn’t focus on that right now.

This was the first time the briefing room was being used, and no one had actually accounted for just how many people we’d have to accommodate. The payroll was growing larger day by day, and I was swimming through a sea of people to get to the front of the room. Half of them didn’t know me. I hadn’t even properly introduced myself. Unfamiliar faces were watching me at every turn, and for a moment I was drowning in concerned and confused looks of people knowing I didn’t belong there. It took a familiar arm pushing the others away with a call for space to save me. 

“Jesse!” I grinned. “I have never been so happy to see someone so negative before.” 

“People always said I should have worked as a crowd control. People are repelled by the storm clouds rolling away on my head.” he laughed. “But Jen, this is a little over the top. Last I checked there was less than a hundred working for us. Where did they come from?” 

“I might have gotten a little carried away. Every time there was a job that needed doing, I just kinda… Delegated.” 

“Well, we’re going to have to change the room. Or else invite less people. You know, this could all be told through email. You don’t have to do this.” He tilted his head towards the crowd he was parting like the red sea. “You don’t have to talk in front of people.” 

“It builds morale.” I playfully slapped him with my manila folder he handed to me as I finally made it to the podium, then placed down the sheaf of papers in their proper place. “Does this have the rest of the background info? I need you to get the powerpoint up. Did you find a picture yet?” I beamed. “I haven’t seen her yet. I wanted it to be a surprise. Oh, I’m so excited Jess.” I couldn’t help but paw through the papers, scanning them over hungrily. 

He smile faded. “I did, but Jess, there’s something we should talk about.” 

“How important is it?” 

“Pretty important.”

“Is it break off a meeting levels of important, or can it wait?” I gestured to the crowd and tried to ignore the growing pit in my stomach. “Because we kind of already gathered them all here.” 

His frown deepened. I was sick of seeing frowns today. The phantom buzzing of my back pocket was growing stronger. 

“It’s not important enough to break off the meeting,” he relented. “But there’s something I didn’t include there, because we need to go over it. Alone.” He tapped the folder, then looked back to me. “We have a name now, too. Dahlia Benn. It’s at the top.” 

“Dahlia Benn…” I tried to bite back a smile. “Okay, okay, we’ll go over it after. But right now, you. Powerpoint. Go.” I waved a hand away at him, relaxing when he finally grinned back at me. Taking a step forward, I finally acknowledged the crowd in front of me. 

Until then, I didn’t realize just how many there were. I carefully adjusted the papers at the podium self consciously, but every time I tried to look up to see the sea of expectant faces, I found myself looking back down to the pages. I hadn’t been this way since grad school. There was a flutter in my stomach that grew the longer I tried to make eye contact with anything other than the hunk of plastic in front of me. I had to dig my fingers into the palm of my hand and remind myself what I was doing. I was here for a purpose. We all were. And this was no time to be afraid. I wasn’t being graded. They weren’t here for me. They were here for what I was going to say.

“Alright, everyone,” I stuttered, and immediately choked back my words. There was some light laughter as I tried to catch myself. “Sorry about that, I… I’m not really used to this. I-” The microphone feedback spiked, and I grit my teeth as I waited for it to fade. I tapped it once, then tried to remember to breathe. A moment, passed, and then another, and I finally figured out how to speak again. “Sorry, can everyone hear me?” The few nods were enough to continue. “I… Um… Well. I’m not usually one for briefings like this. The crowd is… Well, it’s a bit scary, I’m not going to lie.” I tried to laugh, but it turned into a nervous cough. I could a few chuckles here and there, and none of them helped. 

The powerpoint turned on behind me. I turned in surprise at the illumination, then froze in place. 

Her eyes were brown, like her hair. A pixie cut that had grown out down to her shoulders. She wore a simple red t shirt, and faded black capris that looked a size too large for her gangly frame. Under one arm, a stuffed cartoon of a black and white cat hung limp. She was frowning, in the stage of walking outside with bushes separating her from the photographer. I could see the legs of some adult beside her, but my eyes were only on her. Those eyes were mesmerizing. 

For a moment, I forgot there was a crowd behind me. 

When I turned back, I took a deep breath, and started. 

“This… This is Dahlia Benn.” I scanned the notes as I spoke. Slowly, the wavering in my voice seemed to fade, along with the crowd. “She’s ten years old, the daughter of a single mother named Allison Benn. She had a sister named Charlie, recently deceased in the last five months. She lives in Lincoln, Maine. She’s currently going to Ella P Burr Elementary, in between grade five and six. This girl is the reason we are here today. A month ago, me and my associate, Jesse Saito were successful in locating the signature of what we refer to as an Editor.” 

I signaled to Jess at the back of the crowd, and the slide changed to a generic cosmological picture of the universe. I was getting grad flashbacks again. “That is, a being that can change space, matter, time, anything as we know it. They can manipulate their environment with utter abandon. Some would refer to this as a God, but there is nothing linking this phenomenon to any one religion, so I hesitate to apply the title.” I paused, and bit my lip. “Before, I only know this through a theory, and a series of different metaphysical quandaries that always seemed to leave holes in the creation and understanding of the universe. I came up with a system that could identify a possible… Well… God. A thought, more than anything.” There were murmurings in the audience. They should have known this. This shouldn’t have been a hard pill to swallow. A bead of sweat dripped down my throat. 

“The success led me to Dahlia, here,” I continued, and another candid picture of her replaced the artistic rendition of the universe. “Which is why we have set up this installation. Our plan is relatively simple. A select group has been gaining background information and keeping track of the target for the past week. I, along with a smaller group, will integrate, assimilate, and bring her to the facility willingly, and benevolently. Our next task after that will be determining her powers. As of yet, we are currently unsure as to the… breadth of her knowledge of her capabilities.” The slide changed again. I was treated to a montage of the girl. Living her life, frowning in every picture. She had no idea how important she was. How special and amazing she could be. With every frown though, I found my grin slowly falling. Perhaps it was her sister that made her look so sad. I should have looked into that further. I would, in time. I just needed time. 

I turned back to the crowd, and took another deep breath. I saw them briefly, and looked back at my notes to focus. “We are currently under the assumption that her lack of knowledge leads her to the current lack of abilities. But due to the nature of the Editor to manipulate everything, including memory, it is possible she has perfect knowledge, and has already done everything she can to hide herself. That would make things considerably more complicated, but that is something we are prepared to deal with. Currently we are on Plan A, the assumption of unawaredness. As for the end goal,” the slide changed again, this time to a testing room of the facility without the plastic fold out tables and doughnuts. “We hope to use these abilities to help change the world. The finding and training of this godlike entity through benevolent means would benefit everyone in the long run. I never thought I would see the day when this would grow to such an extent.” Looking out over the crowd, I could still somehow find myself smiling. I tried to pretend the murmurs were excited. “Even if I am keeping you guys from your jobs a little longer than you like, I have to say this. You have no idea just how important it is, what we’re doing here. I’m happy you could all join us for the journey.” I nodded my head. “You’re dismissed.” 

The crowd’s murmur grew as they shuffled out the door. Most of the conversation was on break, the food being served, and their own projects. But I caught a line or two, a few excited voices. They made my heart sing. Jesse found me still on the stage, grinning ear to ear as I watched a small group of young researchers whispering between them about the logistics of helping an Editor discover their powers. 

“Jess, listen. You hear them? I did that. I got them to think about it.” My eyes gleamed. “I can feel it in the air, can’t you?” 

“Jen.” His frown was even deeper than before. “Those pictures.” 

“They were amazing, weren’t they? I’d never seen her before. She’s amazing. A little girl.” I let myself lean against the podium, and stared at her name. “Dahlia. What a pretty name. A beautiful flower. It’s poetic.” 

“Those pictures looked invasive as hell to me. I saw them before but… Are you really sure this is the best course of action?” 

“How else would we be able to do it?” I stood up straight. “We can’t just drive over and tell her. This needs tact. I’ve got orders to do this as quietly as we can.” 

His nose wrinkled, but he said nothing more on the subject. “There’s something else.” 

“What was so important you wanted to stop the meeting?” 

“It’s about the girl.” The crowd had thinned to little more than stragglers, but he waited until we were alone to speak. Only then did he produce a page from behind him, placing it on the podium. “She’s not what you think she is.” 

I scanned the paper.

“What is this?” I frowned. 

“It’s more invasive probing.” He scoffed. “It was too easy for us. But I guess there’s a silver lining. Now we know she’s a psychopath.” 

I kept reading, my face falling further when I got to the psychologist’s notes. 

“Apparently she had a hand in the death of her sister.” Jesse’s voice was colder than I had ever heard before. “She let her fall into the water. She doesn’t care about human life. She tried to upset the psychologist. And every meeting since then has been the same. She’s dangerous, Jen. You can see it. Did you see those pictures? The way she looked? Those eyes… I could tell something was off the moment I looked at her. There’s something wrong with her. And we can’t ignore that.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” I muttered. 

“What did you say?” 

“This is ridiculous.” I folded the paper in with the rest of the information. “This doesn’t change anything.” 

“It changes everything! This girl is not in a stable mind. There’s something wrong with her and if we were to unlock these powers you say she has, what’s to stop her from doing something like destroying the world? This could cause an apocalypse, Jennifer. You have no idea what you’re dealing with here.” 

“It says here that the psychologist was working on conditioning practices.” I fingered a line on the page before I closed the folder. “She’s making progress.” 

“She’s a psychopath! They can lie! Every meeting has had the same problems, the same conclusions, no matter what the psychologist tries to do. The notes are desperate, Jen. This girl is wrong.” 

“I’m not giving up on this.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re right, this is a problem. But it’s one we’re going to solve. We’ll find a way to get around this, but we can’t stop this now.” 

“You don’t understand how bad this is. Jen, I’m grabbing you by the shoulder and putting your nose to the dirt and you still can’t see the worms in front of you.” 

A cough interrupted the fuming Jess. I turned abruptly at the noise with a spiteful remark to be left alone on my lips, but it died there. 

Dressed in a suit no less expensive than the last one I had seen him in, his hair was slicked back, and his easy smile lit up his eyes like some kind of Disney prince. “Am I interrupting anything?” The young man from the Board of Directors asked.


	6. Chapter 6

“Who are you?” The air was taken out of my partner when he narrowed his eyes at the well-dressed man. He was an alien in a sea of personnel in lab coats and construction crew in orange vests. 

“Jesse.” I tried to speak quickly. “This is…” I didn’t know his name. Damnit. “He’s from… From the…”

The well-dressed gentleman placed his hands in his pockets and smiled. “I’m her supervisor. Could I have a moment with Jennifer? Alone?” He stressed the last word with glittering eyes. 

“Jen doesn’t have a supervisor,” I’d never seen Jesse look as angry as he did. He wasn’t the angry type. It was almost uncanny to see the man so livid. His nostrils flared, his fists were clenched. “As far as I know, we’re working independently.” 

“I’m everyone’s supervisor, then.” Broadly, the man unpocketed his hands and held out his arms. “This building is under my funding, and I’m the one with the money to fuel your paycheck. So, I’d appreciate if you could take your yelling at my manager here and put it elsewhere. There’s probably some video game out there with your name on it, eh?” 

“Jesse,” I muttered through gritted teeth while trying to retain a nervous smile. “I’m really sorry, but he’s on the Board of Directors and we should really talk about this later when our jobs aren’t on the line. Okay?” 

“Board…” He stared at the young man with a kind of fear that made the man’s lip curl into a smile. Something fought inside him, but logic won. I breathed out a sigh of relief when he sagged his shoulders. “I apologize, sir…” He stepped down from the podium as fast as he could, not once taking his eyes off of the man that controlled his livelihood. “I had no idea.” 

“I get it a lot.” The man shrugged easily, and shoved his hands in his pockets again. “It’s the face. A face this young has its perks, but being undervalued isn’t one of them. I can forgive you, Jesse Saito. This time.” When Jesse paled, the man laughed. “Aw, kid, I’m just messing with you. What’s a few jokes between coworkers, huh? You’re doing good work here, helping Jen with her project. I appreciate all the little additions you’ve made.”

“Little?” Jesse muttered. I stared at the main incredulously for trying to provoke my partner. 

“Well, she needed someone to help her get something this massive off the ground. You did your little number crunching, and she directed you. You’re an asset to The Company. And I’m sure you’ll continue to be useful doing… What is it you do again?” He peered closer at the vibrating young man. “Background information management?” 

“Yes… Sir.” This was helping nothing.

“It’s a good help for Jennifer, I’m sure.”

Jesse closed his eyes for a minute. His hands clenched impossibly tight, then loosened once more. He nodded his head faintly to the member of the Board of Directors, then left the room with not so much as a glance behind him. 

The man watched him leave with that same charming smile, then turned to me. 

“Come on.” He gestured. “I’m not about to have a conversation with a security camera watching our every move. Gives me the jitters.” 

“I’m sorry?” I stared blankly. “I’m confused. The… The Board never comes down. Why are you here- Why were you trying to provoke Jesse? What’s going on, is… Is there a problem?” 

His smile faded as he started to tap his foot. I trailed off when I realized he was waiting for me to finish. “You’re done? Good. Let’s go to your office, then. We have some things to discuss.” 

 

….

 

The ride up the elevator was silent. The two of us stood side by side as the doors closed, then continued to stare at the silver sheen of the door in front of us as the lift began. My gaze trailed slowly up from the floor to finally glance at the man I hadn’t seen in a month. He hadn’t changed. He’d gone lighter on the hair gel, the perfectly fitted suit had changed from blue to beige, and the bronzer was stronger than usual to highlight cheekbones that didn’t need highlighting. But that same overconfident stance was there, and when he caught my eye, that same strange look made me immediately drop my gaze. 

Nervously, I tapped my fingers against the side of my jeans in tune with the sound of a song I’d heard on another girl’s earbuds a few days ago. Whenever we reached a new floor, I’d wait impatiently for the elevator to slow down, then speed up once more coupled with a beep signalling we’d reached a new floor. After the seventh beep, the door opened. 

“After you,” the man gestured. I took the first tentative steps down the clinically lit hallway. The silence was something I could never get over. It was achingly lonely, to have one’s office on a ghost town of a floor. 

There were no windows to offer natural lighting. It was in the center of the building, and so required a creative solution along with other comforts. The flooring was simple enough, inexpensive wood that could be easily replaced and that I wouldn’t mind scuffing. But the walls were warm stained elm. The panelling was bordered with a lighter birch, but the overall dark red hue lit by the warm glow of soft lighting never failed to calm. On one side of the room I’d managed to fit nearly all of my books on a line of dark shelves. That madness stretched from the entrance of the office, all the way to the elaborate door at the very back of the room. That door was half hidden behind a large, ornate desk that took up the majority of the remaining space, surrounded by padded chairs and a laptop setup used purely for the management of the project. The only other illumination provided came from my favorite feature of the entire office. On the right, across from the bookshelves, a glowing fish tank took up the main wall of the room. It stretched as far back as it’s shelving counterpart, but this side glowed a faint blue hue, and lit up schools of beautiful tropical fish every color I could think of. Even now, with my heart beating out of its chest at the news I could be receiving, the sound of the tank’s water system was pleasant to the ears, and the soft movements of the fish flickering back and forth were a welcome distraction. 

All of the warmth and clarity the office provided seemed lost on my “supervisor”. He barely gave a once over before striding toward my desk. “I heard you’d made yourself at home here. I suppose I heard right.” 

“I didn’t mean for it to end up this way,” I stammered. “Suggestions kept being made, and I went along with them. I didn’t have an exact budget, but I hope this isn’t too…” 

“Oh, Jennifer,” he looked back, and for a moment I saw the hooded eyes of a snake. I should have been sleeping more. Days at a time thinking of what could happen out of this experiment suddenly faded in the very real reality that I couldn’t go on like this without hurting myself. I’d have to remind myself to get more sleep. In another moment, he was the same, terrifyingly important person, but a person none the less. “Believe me. My summer home in Mexico is more elaborate, and I haven’t visited that shit hole in the last five years.” I bit my lip. He turned, and continued his confident stride to the centerpiece of the room. He flicked his gaze to the books on the shelf as he leaned back against the wooden frame of the desk. 

“Classic philosophers, eh? You prefer the Greeks?” 

“Yes, sir.” My legs were leaden. His mouth was pursed, as if to speak, but every time words tumbled out, they were blaise and ineffectual. He had to say something. He couldn’t have brought us up here for no reason. I could certainly feel words of accusation jumping at the edge of my own mouth for an opportunity, but I bit them back whenever I caught his discerning eye. 

“I never really cared about philosophy, you know.” He turned to lean against the desk, crossing his arms as he faced me. “When we had it in high school, I never paid attention. I thought there was nothing to gain from asking stupid questions that would never be answered. What’s the point in asking a question, when you know you’ll never get something coherent in response? There’s nothing definite. Nothing real. Either that, or you’re a Marxist. And then it’s political, and if I wanted politics I wouldn’t be here.” He tutted. “If I’d had wanted politics, I don’t think I would have been smart enough to end up in this position.” 

“Sir.” I began, then paused. His eyes narrowed. The silence forced me to continue. “Why did you antagonize Jesse like that? What do you hope to gain by upsetting my partner? His questions might have been rude, but they were valid. And… Why are you here? What’s so important that we had to speak in my office?”

“You’re being quite loud, Jennifer.” 

“I apologize. Sir.” My fingers dug into the palm of my hand. “I would just like some answers. As much as you.” 

“Right. Answers. I would like those as much as you. Tell me, Jennifer, do you know my name?” 

I blinked. “What?”

“Ask me.” 

“Ask you your name?”

“That’s right.” He smirked. 

Nervously, I spoke in a murmur. “What’s your name?” 

He grinned. I was surprised he heard me, when my gaze was focused firmly on the ground. “It’s Henry. Henry Laurent. You never asked, before.” 

“I… I didn’t think to. We were in a meeting. It would have been rude when I was being told of my promotion in the middle of the Board. I was overwhelmed.”

“It was rather overwhelming. That Corporal is rather a pig, isn’t he…” He chuckled at my reaction. “And then the twins have that strange look between them, never talking. And then Syn, now Syn is a piece of work. I’m not sure what got lodged up her ass so long ago, but whatever it was, it somehow possessed her to think a hairstyle as twined as hers was in fashion. Not that I’m one to talk.” He touched the edge of his gelled locks. “This is rather obsessive, isn’t it? But then, old habits die hard. May I call you Jen?” 

“I suppose…” 

“Good.” He looked over to the computer, then furrowed his eyebrows as he picked up the phone that had been lying uncharged at my desk for weeks. The screen had cracked a while ago, but I couldn’t remember when. “You don’t keep this charged?” He held the device between his forefinger and thumb as lightly as he could.

“I have a pager.” 

“Right. A standard Company addition. Though it’s difficult to keep up to date on social media with a pager, is it not?” 

“I wouldn’t know.” 

“Not on social media, eh? Smart. But there must be someone that can’t reach you with a pager, right? The Company does like to make sure that everyone here still has lives outside of their work.” 

“My life is with The Company. You gave me an incredibly important position, and I am acting according to efficiency’s sake. No distractions. I… I haven’t really considered trying to keep up with anyone in the wake of events. It doesn’t seem right. I have this. It’s more than enough.” He waved a hand dismissively. 

“Well, yes. That’s what they all say. They belong to The Company, The Company owes them their lives, their souls, their very essence. I get it. Really.” He narrowed his eyes. “It makes me sick a little in my throat whenever I hear the same mantra over and over again. I’m not the Corporal, and I’m not the shareholders. I’m my own person. And I’m asking you right now to be honest with me, Jen.” He set down the phone as carefully as he’d picked it up. The more he spoke, the more the world seemed to disappear around us. It was only his face, staring at my own. I couldn’t breathe. “We could be friends, right? We don’t have to lie to each other. I’m rather partial to honesty.”

“Right,” I gasped. I hadn’t meant to speak, but it seemed like to break the spell. He turned his gaze to the fish tank, and I could suddenly think again. 

“And I suppose you want your own answers. I antagonized your partner because he was being rather rude to you. Even the term partner, now that’s rather presumptuous of him, isn’t it? That tone of his makes it sound like he had any bearing on the decisions you make.” 

“But he does,” I urged. His eyes caught the rush of a large school of neon tetra fluttering at the right of the pond. Their silvery stomachs flickered like sparkles against the turquoise water. 

“We didn’t appoint him as head of Project Irongate. We appointed you, and gave you the power to appoint anyone beneath you in order to facilitate this project’s success. He doesn’t even know what it is.” He raised an eyebrow at the fish. “Does he, Jen?” The question hung in the air for a moment. Poised, an animal waiting to strike. 

I answered as quickly as I could. “No, of course not. You told me not to. I would never breach security like that.” He smiled softly at the fish, then ducked his head. He kept his arms crossed, though they hung more loosely. 

“Good. I’m glad. I apologize.” He sighed. “I sometimes forget who I’m dealing with here. You’re not some researcher without their merit, working on a project that goes nowhere. The things you’ve come up with are revolutionary. Sometimes I wonder how you managed to guess the right answer to the code of the universe. To be able to do that, well, I can’t seem to wrap my mind around it. And yet, you answered a philosophical question that was never meant to be answered. I like answers, you know. You’re worth your salt, more than anyone in this building can be.” 

“Thank you.” I hesitated. The urge to speak honestly caught in my throat. And that look never quite faded whenever he caught my eye. But those words still rang in my head, that he wanted to be friends. “But you’re not getting to the point.”

“Only because I’m worried. About you, specifically.” I softened. He glanced my way again, but this time his eyes dropped, his smile changing to a grimace. “I hear you’re not sleeping as well.” 

“I’m… Excited.” 

“Good. But we need you in top form, and that means you need more sleep. None of this waiting for a month for something to happen with no results and no reason for the overtime. I heard what you did before.”

“That was…”

“An accident? No. It was obsession. Nothing ever truly escapes The Company. But I understand.” He chuckled dryly. “God, we do sound terrifying, don’t we?” I fingered the button of my pocket. Something burned at the forefront. 

“But you wouldn’t have to come down here yourself to ask about my health, would you, Mr. Laurent. If you want to be friends, then…” Now was the time to speak. I couldn’t let that gnawing apprehension eat away at me. “Then what is this for?” 

He paused, then took a slow breath. “I’m worried about what your partner said to you.” 

“About the girl being a psychopath?” 

“It complicates things, doesn’t it?”

“Well, yes, but it’s not impossible. We can work around it.”

I took a slow breath, then strode up to the man and turned the computer terminal to face us before speaking.

“I have access to a big enough database of psychologists working throughout The Company’s locations that I know we could solve this ourselves. Mentally conditioning someone isn’t difficult as long as we have the people in top positions working towards it. All I have to do is ask, and their join my payroll. You and the Board’s go ahead means that I can ask for help, from any location. This one, the other Brooklyn, Washington, San Francisco, it’s all here.” As I scrolled through the list I paused, then grew sheepish under his wide grin. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I never get tired of problem solvers.” 

I found myself smiling, but it left as soon as it came. “So, is that it? You only heard of that argument just now. Why did we come here?”

“I’d like to say that was the only issue. But it’s the beginning of a larger problem. His outburst is part of the reason I’m here today.” He watched me closely. “Jennifer, this cellphone isn’t charged.”

“No?” I faltered.

“You focus only on your work. Not an email goes out that isn’t directly related to solving issues only on this one project. You don’t talk to anyone, about anything. Why is that?” 

“Do… Do I have to?”

He shrugged. “Well, no. You’re doing well for yourself.” He chuckled. “And you’re doing well for us. Everything in good time, with a plan leaving no room for error. I appreciate that.” He glanced at me, and that look returned. That smile was still there, but everything had changed. It didn’t reach his eyes, and the color in them had faded. His grip tightened on the desk, and his breath left his lungs before he bothered to speak.

“How is your ex wife, Jennifer?” 

The harder I gripped onto the monitor, the less I felt. My vision was so focused on Henry Laurent’s face, that strange expression, that stare that bored into me, that I couldn’t seem to feel or see anything else. And yet I still saw a picture. A simple, low quality, smiling picture on a cell phone that I didn’t have time for. I could hear words, but they were such a jumble of phrases and emotions that I had all heard before. And I didn’t need it. I didn’t have time for her. Not any of it. 

As though I were wading through molasses, I pushed the monitor back aside, and pretended to smile. “I haven’t spoken to her in years, Mr. Laurent. Is she relevant?” 

“No,” he admitted. “Not directly. I was just curious. Your file was rather interesting, you see.” 

“Why are you looking through my file?” The sticky sensation of having my life pulled apart had lost its edge. I’d worked this position too long to be surprised. All it did was make my heart beat the tiniest bit faster. 

“You’re the manager of the most important operation this organization has ever seen, do you really think that the Corporal was going to let you control it without a serious background check?” He smiled in reassurance. “We all got the email detailing your life. Most of them ignored it. Why shouldn’t they? It’s the goal they’re after, not the means. But Jen, you know who I am, right?” 

“A business man named Henry Laurent,” I guessed. 

“I’m not one of them, to be sure. You can see that, right?” He gestured to himself. “The suit, the tie, the gel, that damned bronzer. None of it hides that I’m the youngest on that table. And I can see things that they can’t. I see that behind the quota we’re pushing you towards, there’s a girl who is making sure we get there. A girl is human, and humans are fallible. Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

“No, sir.” It took everything I could not to disassociate in front of him. Even the mention of that damned cellphone picture left me to fend against old memories. 

“Humans have relationships, you see.” Tenderly he stroked my cheek. “You’re cold.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“I apologize if I’ve brought up unhappy memories.” His eye gleamed brighter than ever. “But perhaps it’s for the best. Your ex is out of the picture, along with all of the relationship troubles it entails. You made the right decision the last time, you know.” 

“I… I did.” 

“Of course you did. Work over family. It’s the conundrum everyone faces, in the end. And if you want to make something of your life, then it’s not really a choice, is it? You know which route you have to take. And I want to make sure, Jennifer Miller, that your choice never wavers. Always know that this choice of yours is an illusion, if you truly want to find God.” 

“I do. It’s never changed.” I stared unblinkingly at him. “That… That part of me is over. It was always over. My affiliation is to the Company, alone.” 

“And yet, there’s the problem of Jesse.” His hand slipped away. “He’s a nice kid. Never made anything of his life. But a nice kid, all the same. And I seem to recall he was bossing you around. And you let him.” 

“He was just informing me of a problem.” 

“And you weren’t going to let it fester, were you?” 

“I told you I knew how to fix it.” 

“What if he doesn’t like your solution?” 

“It’s not his project.” My fist tightened. “It’s mine.” 

“Good.” He nodded. “And the girl?” 

“The… Girl?”

“A little girl, who will become a God. Davie, or something.” 

“Dahlia. And it’s Editor.” 

That same cold smile again. “Editor? Is that what you’re going with?” 

“I couldn’t call her a God. She wouldn’t be. That’s not what this is.” Every moment my voice grew tighter, and he only shook his head. 

“It doesn’t matter what you call a dog, it will always be a dog in the end. This Dahlia of yours is a goal. And I want to make that abundantly clear. The next time you find yourself wavering, I want you to listen in your heart, and know what the truth of the matter is. That you chose this path once, and I know you can do it again. My dear,” he ran a hand across my cheek. “You remind me of my sister. A wonderfully brilliant woman, with worlds behind her eyes and a journey that she was always afraid to take. She was brighter than all of us, I’d expect. Sometimes I wonder… What it would be like. She might see me, and see the decisions I made…” His eyes softened. “I think she would be proud of what I’d managed to create.” 

“What happened to her?” I pulled his hand away. 

“She died. Humans do that.” His smile faded before he pulled away and padded towards the door. He stopped a hair’s breadth from the entrance to turn around. “We’re all counting on you. You know that, right?” 

“Right,” I sighed. “I know. I can do it.”

“You will do it.” His eyes narrowed. 

“I will.” I tried to smile. “I promise.”

I found myself on my knees. The man from the Board was gone, coupled by the sound of a door shutting behind him. I was staring at cheap flooring and trying to stop remembering. That face again. Jesse was cute. My sister. What a sweet lie. 

Dimly, I could hear the sound of sobs. Minutes passed, and I finally realized that my body was pulling itself to its feet. One step at a time, it was forced to that ornate door behind the desk. Pulling the knob was difficult when my hands were so numb. The deep grooves of my nails digging into them were the only pain I could feel. 

The door opened, and the small, dimly lit bedroom was revealed. It was so simple. A fridge, a bed, a small adjacent bathroom. The cement floor was slick. I slipped twice before collapsing against the twin sized mattress. It was soft, welcoming, and as much a viper as Laurent’s eyes. Each body part worked methodically, an arm pushing towards the bed, a leg kicking off, until my head was at the pillow and I was staring at the stucco ceiling. The dim yellow bulb swung faintly from the ceiling. I must have slammed the door too hard. 

Instead of a fish tank, it was the fridge that offered the dull white noise. A mechanical, clinical sound so alien in comparison, and yet I still found my eyes slowly wilting under its embrace. The small, unfinished room closed slowly in on my pathetic self. A slow, wracking sob rang out through the tiny room. I hated that noise but stifling the blanket against my mouth wouldn’t quench it. It was in my mind, echoing there and reminding me over and over.

In that tiny room, I held onto that blanket as tightly as I could. The world around me shook and swirled, but I held onto it. And I wished it would smile. I wished the warm brown eyes would look at me one last time, so I could tell them what I’d done. I’d ask them if they were proud of me. And I knew the answer would be no. 

I was weak today. I’d cracked. I wasn’t focusing. The sleep, the tiredness in my eyes, the crying ringing in my ears that wasn’t there, the snakes that slithered at the edge of my vision, all of it was growing and only sleep could stop it. Just a few hours. Just a minute. Any time. Tomorrow, I wouldn’t need an answer. I wouldn’t have to ask her. 

But for tonight, just these few minutes, I wished for once she would have told me she was proud.


	7. Chapter 7

Dahlia

“Mom.” The grip on my ball grew tighter.

“I’m busy, Dahlia.” My mother scrolled through her phone from the park bench. She wore a damp and dingy blue hoodie over-top of the old swimsuit that barely fit her anymore, and the same duct tape running shoes with no socks. Wet sand coated the soles that she had tracked in from the edge. A cigarette burned in her hands, half gone already with the rest of the pack firmly wedged in the pocket of her sweater. Away from the other mothers at the beach, she was half hidden by the shade of the large oak trees that framed the waterfront of the lake. She kept to the park bench, with the deeply grooved lines of graffiti over-top, the gum stuck to the underside of the weathered wood, and the residue the picnickers had left behind. A small trail of ants gorged themselves on and old splash of soda. 

“We’re at the beach,” I said. 

“It’s a lake, not a beach. Go swim. You kept saying you wanted to swim, and now we’re here. Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

I looked back at the front of the beach. The teenagers in the midst of their summer break had swarmed all of the piers and left the children to fend for themselves at the artificial sandy shoreline. I recognized a few of my peers from school. Eddie, Winnie, Mathew and Miranda. Winnie was building a sandcastle next to the tall grass where the dogs liked to pee, and was starting to incorporate some of the tall fronds into the top to make spikes. The two boys were swimming out as far as their parents would let them before they had to turn around. When they finally did, it wasn’t without a lot of whining and threats. 

I picked up Remmy from where he sat guarding the picnic bench, then sat across from my mom. My shorts kept the wood of the table from rubbing against my thighs, yet the heat baking down on the world was still unyielding. I shielded my eyes as I looked to the sun, scooted closer to the shady side of the bench, then turned back to mom. 

“You got dressed to swim too, didn’t you?” 

“Yes, but there’s adult things I need to do, and since you wanted to come here I have to do them on my phone, alright?” She looked up at me with that cold expression that had become so common lately. “You told me you wanted to swim, so I brought you here. But you have to go to the psychologist tomorrow, alright? No complaints this time. And no talk about Charlie. Not from you.” She narrowed her eyes and waited for the argument. Ever since the car ride, I’d never seen her cry again. The moment I tried to speak about Charlie, I’d feel the sting of a slap fresh against my cheek coupled with a sharp warning not to speak. I didn’t understand why she wouldn’t let me talk about her. She was crying before. She wanted to talk to someone about Charlie, like she had told the psychologist. I knew all about Charlie, maybe more than her. But whenever I spoke, whenever I looked at her, it would be met with a cold fury. Her eyes would alight in some kind of rage that I didn’t understand, and her voice would crack like she was trying not to cry. She was so worked up over nothing. But it was useless to try and argue. 

“I know.” I kept my eyes level with hers. “But it’s not the same if you don’t swim.”

“I don’t want to swim, Dahlia. I have things to do. Besides, I’ll get sick, and you know I don’t want to be anywhere near the water.” She took a drag from her cigarette. “Sometimes I swear you want to swim just so you can remind me of it all. Is that what you want? Should I go dunk you in a river?” 

“No.” 

She scanned her phone, then swore under her breath. “Have you been looking at anything strange on your computer lately?” 

“No.” 

“Are you lying?” 

“No.” 

She frowned, then set her phone down. Her eyes flicked to Remmy. “You can’t take that with you into the water, got it?” 

“I wasn’t going to take Remmy, I was going to take the ball.” I kicked at the inflatable red and white piece of plastic and watched it bounce down the hill to the shore. The slope of the descent was sharp a few feet away from us, where the tall fronds of grass gave out to the artificial brown and silver sand that got shipped in at the beginning of every summer. Ahead of us was the lake. Bordered by country houses and encroaching forests, it spanned so far across that large boats took to the water and were still dwarfed by the sheer size. It wasn’t deep, but it was vast. Across the bay a couple fishermen were trying their luck, catching little more than perch and the occasional unfortunate turtle. The bouncing ball continued its travels as the wind picked up again. I watched it go. “But you’re not moving. I can’t play ball by myself anymore. It’s boring. So I’ll wait, but you have to play with me.” 

“Dahlia.” Her voice was stern. “I don’t want to play with you, got it? We’re here because you want to be here, and nothing more. I don’t want to play, I don’t want to deal with the other… mothers on the beach, I don’t want-“

“You just called it a beach.” 

She said nothing. I watched her closely, but her murderous scowl was on her phone. “Something happened to our computer security, and we’ve had a breach, or something,” she finally said. “I got a notification and I have to deal with the fallout and make sure our credit cards didn’t get lost. I have to cancel them, deal with the bank, and make sure we’re not a victim of identity theft.” 

“What’s identity theft?” 

“Bad. Adult stuff.” She gritted her teeth. “I’m dealing with more adult stuff than I can handle right now. Bills, finding work, and now you.”

I blinked at her. She sighed.

“My life is crashing down right now and I have more than enough to deal with so just… stop bothering me and let me deal with the adult problems, okay?” 

“Do you think it’s a virus?” 

“What?”

“The phone.”

“No – I don’t… I don’t know what it is. Probably not a virus. But it set off a bunch of warnings and I’m pretty sure you downloaded something you shouldn’t have.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re the only variable. I just wish you would tell me the truth.” 

The ball kept bouncing until it hit the edge of the water. One of the teenagers found it and kicked it out towards Eddie on his return voyage. He ducked under the water at the last moment, then surfaced again with a laughing cough. His backstroke was strong, way ahead of Mathew even though he was the one that had tried to stick it out in the water the longest. The ball floated aimlessly, but the reverberations from a motor boat skating across the water were starting to led it back to shore. I watched its course and plotted where I knew it would end up. In the reeds, far to the right of all the other piers. It was muddy there. I’d have to keep my sandals on in the water, or else deal with the feeling of swamp between my toes.

“If you downloaded something that you think was bad, just tell me. Martha told you that you can tell me things, right?” I had forgotten the psychologist’s name. I probably wouldn’t remember it the next time either. 

“I told you I didn’t download anything.” 

“I wouldn’t care if it was porn, Dahlia.” 

“What’s porn?” 

My mother swore under her breath, then took another drag. “Shit, never mind. Maybe it was me. I don’t know. I hate this.” She slammed her phone against the picnic table. “Why does this always happen to me?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“No not- Dahlia, just go for a swim. Please. Leave me alone for a while.” Her hands shook faintly, her gaze lowered to the graffiti of some initials that had been there as far back as I could remember. 

She wasn’t going to swim. 

I stood up, then looked back at her once last time and weighed my options. My mother’s lips were cracked. There was that same look in her eyes, of a cornered animal, but this time it wasn’t my fault. She was punishing me anyways, and she wasn’t bothering to listen. No matter how long I looked at her, it remained the same. With no reason to make her swim, I started to walk away with Remmy in my arms. 

“What did I say about bringing that stuffed animal into the water!” She snapped.

“Not to.” I looked back at her. “I’m not going to.” I pointed to the reeds. “The ball is going to end up there. I’m going to go get it.” 

She grabbed her phone up again as soon as it buzzed, then waved me off with the cigarette. “Fine, fine, but don’t get leeches on you, and don’t bring back any frogs. Leave that stupid toy at the shore. If there’s sand on it, it’s going in the wash. And don’t go near those teens, got it?” 

“Why can’t I go near the teenagers?” 

“They’ve been drinking. Just stay away from that crowd. Play with the other kids, I don’t care. Let me fix this. Just leave me alone.” 

I carefully picked my way down the hill with Remmy swinging in my arms. Along the way, grasshoppers stopped chirping and jumped out of my way like popcorn. Some of them landed in the sand. When I kicked some of it over the creature by walking, the insect drowned in the miniature desert with its wings caught full of dust. Spiders and other bugs scurried away back into the small holes lining the grass roots, but the grasshopper was trapped. I paused to watch it struggle for a moment, then turned back around to the beach. 

The further down I walked, the more towels and umbrellas that populated it. Mothers and fathers read and chatted amongst themselves as they watched their respective children below, but none of them paid any close attention to notice anything. Winnie was being chased by Eddie with a long dead fish, and one of the teenagers had stomped on a toddler’s sand castle. Mathew had stolen the toddlers building tools and was using the bucket to try to catch the minnows on the shoreline, with little success. The cries and screams weren’t out of the ordinary for people who didn’t pay attention or listen. I could hear it, but I just watched. The last time I had talked to Mathew was when he had taken my pudding cup at lunch time. He seemed to make it a habit of taking everyone else’s things. 

Eddie gripped the head of his decayed find like it was a snake about to strike him. His legs were covered in sand from running after the girl in the frilled swim suit, and his laugh was as loud as her screaming. Eddie was always running after the soccer ball further than anyone else, especially when other kids kicked it out into the forest. He didn’t seem to get that someone else could go get it. 

“Winnie come kiss the prince!” He shouted. “It’ll be a real boy if you just kiss the prince!” He opened the rotting mouth with his hands to mimic the kissing without missing a beat in his step. “I love you Winnie,” he mimed. “Please rescue me.” 

“Stop it Eddie, I mean it!” She hid behind the beginning of one of the piers, then skittered backwards as he cornered her. She knocked into one of the teenagers about to jump and flinched away. “Sorry!” 

“Watch where you’re going, bitch.” The young man slurred. “What the fuck are you doing here? Get to the back of the line.” 

“Winnniiiie.” Eddie pushed the dead fish through two posts to try to touch her with it. “Love me Winnie. Come, let’s get ice cream together at Big Rig, please Winnie, won’t you love me?”

“You’re gross, Eddie.” She kicked sand back at his face as she hid a smile, then sprinted off towards the next pier. Winnie wasn’t as fast as Eddie, but he gave her a good head start.

I turned towards the reeds, and ignored the sharp screams at the reaction of dead fish touching Winnie’s skin. 

Miranda had been steadily walking towards the same direction I was, but she was following something in the water. I followed her stride, matching her walk and watching that focused expression. She had waded out to her knees and stared intently at the rippling surface, occasionally dipping her hand in as if to catch something. She never got anything but water, but that didn’t deter her. The longer I watched her, the more I could hear accusations in my head, so I turned and took the other way towards the swampy part of the lake before she noticed. Miranda was Winnie’s cousin, but they looked nothing alike. Winnie has blonde curls and dull grey eyes, but Miranda had brunette locks that went down to her shoulders, currently straight and soaked. Her eyes were brown, and they were so focused on what she was looking at that she didn’t notice me until we were feet away from each other. I’d made it silently to the very edge of the weeds, when she looked up at the sudden movement in the corner of her eye. 

“Dahlia? What are you doing here?” She demanded. In an instant, her eyes had lit up in apprehensive fury. Her entire body had gone rigid, and whatever she had been looking at before left her attention as soon as it came. Her face was beet red from sunburn, but the rest of her body had been safely hidden in a soaked grey t shirt that reached down to her knees. 

“Getting my ball,” I said. I kept Remmy gripped tightly in my arms, and waited for a response. 

“Is that your excuse?” She looked like she was going to run. “There’s no teacher to lie to this time, and I could get my mom. So if you’re stalking me, you better stop it. For real. You are, aren’t you?” 

“I’m not.” And I hadn’t been the other time either. All I did was watch her, and take her candy bar from her desk. She had never found out about that, but she knew that I looked at her a lot. She was always surrounded by people on all sides whenever she was at school, of all different kinds. She spent her days laughing, going from class to class with a smile on her face and attracting even the teacher’s attention. But there wasn’t anything about her that was special. Nothing that I could see, anyways. I always wanted to know why, how she’d done it. The last time that we had talked was when I was told by the teacher that I had to move to the back of the classroom because I scared her. When she was scared, her eyes lit up, just like when she was angry. 

“I’m not,” she repeated in a higher pitch to mock me. “Whatever. You’re always like this, showing up in places you don’t belong. And that face of yours is gross.” 

“How?” 

She wrinkled her nose. “You always look like you’re about to poke someone’s eye out. It’s scary. And your eyes are weird. Do you even know how to smile?” 

“I don’t want to.” 

“Yeah. Whatever.” She looked back down at the water. “Did you see where my turtle went?” 

“No.” 

“Is no your favorite word?” 

“I don’t have a favorite word.” 

“You’re so weird,” she muttered. Her attention kept flicking back to the water, and each time she seemed to get further frustrated at the lack of turtle. “You don’t even play with the other kids. Do you have any friends? Do you want to be my friend, is that why you keep following me around?”  
“No.”  
“Well I don’t want to be yours, not when you look like that. Why do you bother showing up?” 

“To swim.” 

“I meant at school,” she sneered. “You don’t just swim at a lake. And what’s your mom doing anyways? Smoking? My mom says your mom is white trash.” 

“She’s looking at her phone.” The ball had gotten snagged on a reed too far out to wade. I was waiting for the wind to rip it back towards the open water. “She doesn’t want to swim, so I’m doing what I want instead.” 

“What, stalking me?” 

“I don’t care about you, Miranda. I just need to get that ball back.” 

That bright look in her eyes was back, but she bit her tongue as she struggled on what to say. “You… You’re so weird!” She finally exclaimed. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” 

“My mom said not to talk to you because there’s something wrong with you.” 

“Your mom says a lot of things.”

She paused, then looked at me discerningly. 

“Did you really see your sister die?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What was it like?” 

It wasn’t hard to remember when it was right there are the edge of my memory. I never forgot it. When I closed my eyes, it happened over and over, and I got to see exactly what happened to Charlie. The psychologist had had just about enough of my reiterations, and mom didn’t like me talking about it. When Miranda asked me, I had to pause. 

“Was it… Was it scary?” She added hesitantly, when I didn’t talk for a minute.

“She followed me to the river when it was overflowing because I stole her toy. She kept going, even when it was dangerous, and then she put her weight on dead leaves that couldn’t keep her up in the water. She figured it out when it was too late, and she started crying and screaming for me. Then she got swept away. When her skull collided with a rock, it made a cracking noise, and then there was blood where it had smashed there. She was screaming all the way up until that point. She knew how to swim, but I don’t think breaking open your skull can help with that. Then she was dead.” The grip on Remmy grew tighter and tighter, until it threatened to break the stitching.

Miranda stared at me. Her face remained that bright heated red from the sun, but her eyes dilated, her mouth was half open. I remained steadfast with my feet at the edge of the water, while she stood frozen up to her knees in the murky water. Sweat poured from her neck. I wondered if it was from heat or fear. 

It took her mom calling her name from the shore for her to be broken out of her stupor. 

“You’re a psychopath!” She stammered. She pointed accusatory finger pointed towards me and took a fearful step back. Her eyes bugged out of her skull. “Like, like a killer!” 

“I am not.” I tried to take a step forward, but she stumbled back and fell into the muddy water. When she broke out from the shallows, she gasped and coughed up water. 

“You are so!” She finally choked. “You’re crazy, like- like a monster!”

“I’m not. I’m just telling you what happened. And I’m not a psychopath. You’re wrong.” I kept to the shore as I tried to go after her, but she backed further out into the water with a whimper at the edge of her lips. 

“No, no one says stuff like that. You’re so, so weird. Just stay away from me!” Her mom called out for her again, and that was all she needed. She ran as fast as she could through the water, eventually swimming when the wading was too slow. Her doggy paddle wasn’t much faster. 

The wind had finally dislodged the ball. It floated amiably toward on the water. For a moment, I didn’t see the ball. I saw Miranda instead, floating, like Charlie. It would have been calmer, since the water didn’t rush like the creek had. Her annoying voice would be gone if her head was face down in the water. At the same time, something twisted at my stomach, and I put the thought out of my mind. It was just a ball that I needed to grab, nothing more, nothing less. I sat Remmy down at the edge of the shoreline where the sand was too wet to stick to him, then waded into the murky water. I was up to my calves before I made it to the ball, just before the wind could blow it away out of reach. When I picked it up, a turtle head peered back at me from behind it. It floated in the water for a second, peering up at me, then ducked back into the weeds and swam away. 

The snap of a camera drew my attention towards the grove of trees that lined the lake. A few feet away, the end of the beach was filled with big, hulking oaks, pines, and maples that grew as tall as the church, and huddled close together to hide the summer homes behind them. The bank grew mossy and rocky, and it was that stone and mud that largely bordered the entirety of the lake. The stand of trees grew thicker the further out the lake went, until it was nothing but forest. But in the small stand in front of me, a shadow flickered between two of the old oaks. There was a glint of something silver, and then a face that didn’t know I had seen him. It was a man, wearing a simple t shirt and jeans, with a backpack shouldered heavily on a creaking back. He had a small camera in one hand which he kept pointed at me without looking my way. As he reached for his silver water bottle, he took another picture of me for good measure. He mumbled something, then began to look through little device with hazy and bored eyes. He still hadn’t noticed that I had seen him when I got out of the water and started walking.

I was at the corner of his vision mere feet away. That was when he flicked his eyes up to look at me. His eyes twitched, his mouth dropped, and he stared at me for a long moment. Both of us did. He gazed at me, dripping from the legs down with sandals covered in sand, and I watched him back. He looked like a hiker, if it weren’t for the strange camera, or that his face was so pale. He grew paler the longer he looked, but he couldn’t seem to turn away. 

“Uh… Hey, little girl,” he hesitated. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Taking pictures of the lake. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” He laughed nervously as he quickly pocketed the camera. 

“You were taking pictures of me.” 

“Oh, no, don’t worry. I wasn’t.” He offered a friendly smile. “I’m a photographer. I was just wanting to get a nice photo of the entire shoreline.”

“I know what a liar sounds like. You’re a terrible liar.” His teeth gritted, but he tried to retain that friendly look. 

“Look, I’m not lying. I promise. And I’m not trying to do anything weird, or gross. So just… Don’t worry about it.”

“That doesn’t sound convincing.” I tilted my head to the side. “Why are you taking pictures of me?”

“I swear, I’m not.” He held up his hands defensively. There was a brightness in his eyes. Like Miranda, but it wasn’t rage. There was fear there. Real, terrified fear. I looked behind me, but there was nothing there but a forlorn Remmy lying on the side of the shore. 

I stared at him a moment longer, but he kept repeating the same things over and over again. He wasn’t listening. Of course he wasn’t. There wasn’t any point in talking to the adult, so I turned to pick up Remmy on the side of the shore before the water began to lap at his feet. The steady hike back up to the shore was punctuated with hateful glances from Miranda and her family, but one look in their direction kept them from trying anything further. Winnie and Eddie were missing from the rest of the group, and Mathew had left the toddler’s toys out in the lake to drift away. Wherever the toddler was, I had no idea. 

“Mom.” I sat down on the bench, and this time carefully held the ball in my arms to keep it from floating away. 

She sighed. “What?” 

“There was a man taking pictures of me.” She froze with one finger over the home screen of her phone, then dropped it. 

“Dahlia, don’t lie to me.” 

“There was a man. He had a t shirt and jeans, and a tiny camera. He was hiding in the trees taking pictures of me.” I looked up at her. “I’m not lying.”

“You better not be.” Her voice was uncharacteristically worried as she peered back towards the trees. Her eyebrows furrowed, her hand tightening on the old phone. “Are you absolutely sure?” 

“He said he was a photographer. That he was taking pictures of the beach.” She immediately let out a breath of relief, but I moved closer. “He was lying, I know he was taking pictures of me. He had the voice of a liar.” 

“Dahlia, no. He wasn’t. He probably works for the tourist board or something. It’s not new, you’ve seen them before. God, you gave me a heart attack.” She slouched forward, and rubbed her eyes. “Are you done at the beach? Can we go now? I need to call the bank when we get home.” 

“He was taking pictures of me.” I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not listening to me.”

“Because you’re being over-dramatic. He was a photographer and you’re just blaming people. I don’t even know what your angle is here, but I’m not about go to running after someone on the tourist board. We have things to do. Come on, get in the car. If you’re going to have that kind of attitude, then you’re not going to have it in public.”

“You’re not listening to me.” 

“Dahlia.” Her mouth tightened. “Do you really want to have this here? In front of other people?”

“I don’t care.”

“Of course you don’t,” she snarled. “You never do. Come on, get up. We’re going home right now.” 

Mom packed the two of us into the car quickly after that. On the way out of the parking lot, she nearly bumped into a pickup and swore when she left less than a hairs breadth between them. Her hands were shaking as she carefully threaded our vehicle through, and they didn’t listen when we got onto the open road. Then, the ride back was silent, permeated only by the occasional laughter on the streets of children out in the busy heat. The sound of a band played in the distance as we passed the main hub of the town, then faded into the distance. Still my mother drove on. She kept her eyes on the road ahead. Her eyes were hooded.

The noise quieted down to birdsong when we turned onto our side of the neighborhood. I let out a small breath, and let the silence warm my ears. Nothing loud meant that my ears didn’t hurt, and there was nothing to trouble my vision. 

Mom parked and the two of us piled out of the car in quick succession. I dragged my towel, ball and Remmy along with me. My mom carried her backpack that she had never gotten out of the car. Her water bottle was safely tucked into a side pocket. 

The house was just as hot and sticky as the air outside, but mom touched the thermostat the moment we entered. I kicked off my sandals, then wandered over to the fridge to look for leftover pizza. She’d eaten it all already, so I closed the fridge in favor of looking for Popsicles. There was one left. Months and months old. The last one had been Charlies’, before. As I grabbed it, my mom pressed a button on the home phone answering machine. The blinking red light stabilized as the home phone’s answering machine played. I wandered towards the living room to sit down on the couch. 

“One new message. First message, recorded at two thirty P.M.,” the machine said, then an unfamiliar voice spoke up. “Hello, this is Naomie Charlotte from Community Health and Counselling Services. I’m just calling to inform you that due to personal issues, Martha Fischer will be unable to continue with your daughter’s sessions, and I’m really sorry for the inconvenience. However, we do have another psychologist that will be taking her place, with no delay at all, she can even continue in the same time slot. If you’d like to call back, you can reach us here.” The caller rattled off the number for the psychologist’s office, then finished with a smile in her voice. “I promise that we’re going to do everything we can to keep up with your daughter’s sessions and we really hope to see you again! Again, so sorry for the inconvenience. Have a nice day.” 

My mother swore in the kitchen, then laughed to herself. I heard the thud of a fist against a wall. 

“Dammnit,” she muttered. “There's no money taken, the credit card wasn't touched, what was even the point of this? Was this some kind of sick joke? Who would do that? I’ll need to change the passwords. I need a nap. Dahlia,” she called out from the kitchen. 

I stopped sucking on the Popsicle. “What?” 

“Don’t bother me for the next couple hours.” 

“Okay,” I said. I bit of a chunk of the Popsicle, and gripped Remmy tighter in my arms.


	8. Chapter 8

Jennifer 

I tapped on the desk with the ballpoint pen in time with the clock behind me. The rhythmic movement wasn’t enough. I put it down, grasped at the papers of the document in front of me again, and tapped the edge of them against the desk to even them out. I placed them down again, studied the name labelled on it, and resisted reading through the entire thing for the fiftieth time. The stapler on the desk was out of staples. I bit my lip, and turned in the rolling chair to look at the clock again. Ten minutes. Ten minutes until she appeared. Only ten minutes left. I could wait ten minutes. 

I turned back around, plucking at the newly changed name plate on the desk. Genevieve Hutchinson. My name was Genevieve Hutchinson. Sounded real enough. I suppose I looked like a Genevieve, if I had better nails, better eyes and a better face. I could play a good Genevieve. A Ms. Hutchinson. A professor Hutchinson, maybe. Doctor Hutchinson. 

The chair rocked back and forth under my weight as I pushed it around. No position seemed right. I picked at an eyelash that seemed about to fall. My eye caught a few forlorn markers on the desk. I picked them up and uncorked one, then drew a quick squiggle on one of the notepads in front of me. The red still worked. And the green. The blue was on its last legs though. I wondered if there were any replacements in the staff room, but then immediately thought better of that. Going in there was an invitation for questions I wasn’t interested in answering. I’d already gotten off on the wrong foot as soon as I’d met the manager of the building and I was uninterested in seeing her again. Not remembering her name or giving her proper credentials had her suspicious, to say the least. A phone call back to the main hub cleared that up, but I was being far too conspicuous. There was no way that a simple mistake on my part was going to end this mission if I had anything to say about it. 

Inside, the desk had extra paper, and a set of pens that hadn’t been removed from the packaging. There were a few children’s workbook exercises as well, with a friendly dolphin on the cover. 

I thought back to Jesse. He’d probably hate the dolphin. His belligerent glares, his anger at the thought of me doing this… I didn’t want to think about the explosion. It could have been a real psychologist, he kept repeating. We had enough of our own. I didn’t need to do this. I shouldn’t have to. Maybe he was right. Maybe I could have listened to him, and had this mission last far longer than it had to be. I wasn’t in the mood to play broken telephone. 

In the end, the decision made was one that was never really a choice in the first place. I had to see her. After all this time, I had to see her. He knew that and no matter how many times he disagreed with me, he knew in the end what I had to do. He shut up after that, left me to pack, and didn’t say goodbye when I left to get on the plane. I didn’t blame him. The things we’d said… It was something more than a couple pizzas could fix. When I came home again, when I showed him what I was capable of, we’d go out for a night on the town like he always told me I needed. I couldn’t leave it like that. He told me that I was looking for something I’d never find. I told him that he was living in a moral nightmare that his gloom would never pull him out of. Neither of were happy. Neither of us really believed it. 

I didn’t think about Jesse on the plane. I was thinking the entire car ride to the airport of what work I could do most efficiently on the ride there. It wasn’t like I could sleep, with something so close to fruition. There was paperwork to fill out, updates to be briefed on, the testing chamber wasn’t even finished yet. My nerves were on fire boarding that plane, sitting down and preparing with the company-owned laptop for the next few hours of time-crunching work. 

Turns out, sleep was the answer. I hadn’t meant to, but as soon as we’d taken off I had found myself almost dizzy. My eyes closed, and a small nap turned into the entire trip there. I woke up in Bangor with no idea where the time had gone. In a way, I was grateful. I didn’t have to think about Jesse, or about the work, or about Mr. Laurent the entire trip there. Sleep didn’t come often these days, with this anticipation I could feel in my very soul. It was always there gnawing away at me, telling me I should be more productive. As if it couldn’t see how ragged I’d already run myself. I couldn’t stand it any longer. 

Jesse didn’t understand. I didn’t blame him. I don’t think anyone would feel what I felt. I kept it quiet. We didn’t need the senior manager losing her mind. Not when we were so close. I had people to rely on. More than many could say they did. 

I looked back at the clock again. Five minutes. 

After the plane, the car ride in that non-assuming red Civic had taken another hour, and sleep decided it would rather go back to its unattainable state. That was when it really started to sink in. I drove past old forest and moss-covered stone, lakes, rivers, all under a beautiful blue sky. I kept imagining what it would have been like, to live here, to grow up in this kind of world, to know only the small-town life style and nothing else. Jesse always said it was boring as all hell, but driving through that forest… I couldn’t agree. There was something mystical about it that touched the edge of my heart. Letting a deer cross the road had my heart in my throat. I’d never seen one in the wild before. There were wild turkeys strutting confidently along the drain ditch bordered by old pines around one corner. Around another winding corner, a turtle had just finished crossing the road. 

I was in another world. 

Which led me to here. Tapping on the papers, looking at that same name over and over again on the cover and constantly having to remind myself it was real, pinching myself to make sure, tapping my pen in time with the clock, repeat. Stare at the candies I left on coffee table between the couch and the armchair. I wondered if she liked sour keys. Look back at the clock. Repeat. Three minutes left. Two. One minute. 

My heartbeat grew frantic when the next hour started, and the door still hadn’t opened. She could have been late. This could have all been an elaborate joke. None of this was real. I was dreaming that day I saw that blip on the computer screen. I could still be there, catatonic and staring at a computer that would never finish its sequence. 

It was two minutes later that a small hand gripped the hand of the door and pushed it in. Behind it, a pair of brown eyes watched me with wary caution. She was real.

She was just like her pictures. The same hair, the same frown, the same stuffed cat, the same everything. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even think. She was right there, in front of me. The Editor was glaring me down and I couldn’t even speak. 

“Are you the new psychologist?” She asked. The sound of her voice startled me. It was quiet, soft, monotone. She was shy. I make a tiny noise in the back of my throat. Her frown deepened, and she paused in the middle of the doorway. 

“I- Yeah. Mhm. That’s me. Doctor Jennif- Genevieve M- Hutchinson yes. That’s me. Uh huh.” I put my legs together and sat up sharply, then quickly positioned the name plate in full view for her.

She stared at me for a moment, then flicked her eyes to the couch. I got up with little hesitation and sat down on the armchair, crossed my legs, then uncrossed them after a moment of thought. I motioned a little too abruptly for her to sit down, and gestured to the bowl of candy. 

“I- ah – I have some candies, if you wanted, I’m not sure what you’d like so I kind of… I just kind of got a lot…” The bowl was filled with all types of bulk treats from the general store across the street. Sour keys littered the top. She stared at them, but said nothing. 

Her silence was starting to addle me. I’d said something wrong. Probably done something stupid. She kept looking at me. 

“Sit down?” I asked. “Please?”

“Fine.” She quietly padded to the couch, then took a seat. Carefully, she positioned the stuffed cat doll on her right, then looked out the window. The doll continued to look back at me with unblinking button eyes. His ears were far too large for his tiny head. 

I tried very hard not to smile at how gingerly she’d placed him. 

“So you’re Dahlia, right?” I asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Like, Black Dahlia.” 

“What?” 

“Um… Nevermind.” I realized my mistake very quickly and refrained from delving into a murder case with a child. 

My body stood up straighter as I realized I was slouching into the armchair. I scanned through the notes. It was a futile effort when I’d already memorized them. It wasn’t as though I would be able to glean anything from it. The psychologist had notes I could never hope to understand. Those I did still lacked context. I glanced from them to her again, then back to the notes, and cursed under my breath. I hope she hadn’t seen. There was no possible way I could be prepared for the real thing in front of me, breathing and looking incredibly bored out the window. 

“It’s uh… Nice weather, right? Sunny. Lots of trees. I’m not really used to trees myself. I come from a city and this is all new to me. You know the whole story, city girl moving out from the big city and… Stuff…” She said nothing, so I scratched my arm and placed down the papers to keep from destroying them with shaking hands. I tried to fold my hands in my lap as elegantly as I could. “I saw a deer the other day.”

“Oh,” she finally said, when I didn’t add anything.

“You want to… You want to talk about anything?” I offered. “We could talk about whatever you want. I’m not really partial to anything.” I chuckled awkwardly. “This is your hour, after all.” 

“No.” She glanced my way, and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t want to talk, at all.” 

“Oh.” I blinked. “If you don’t want to talk then… Can I talk instead?” She raised her eyebrow, then sighed. Her demeanour changed. Before, her body had been tight and robotic. But it relaxed now, sliding back into the couch even as she kept her eyes on the outside world.

“I guess.” 

“Okay. Well. Um.” I placed the notes down on the arm of the chair. “I saw a deer the other day, and these wild turkeys. And there was a turtle as well. Just crossing the road.” 

“That’s a tortoise, not a turtle.” 

“Oh! Right, right, yes, probably a tortoise. It was pretty bumpy, and it moved very slow. I was afraid to move it out of the way, though.” 

“And are you sure it wasn’t a grouse? The bird?” 

“What’s a grouse?” I put my pen along with the papers aside on the coffee table, then shyly grabbed a sour key. I sucked on it, with my full attention on her. “I don’t know a lot about birds.”

“A ruffed grouse. They’re not turkeys. And they’re more common.” 

“Well… It looked like a turkey, I think.” I thought back to the holiday specials on television. “I think it gobbled.” 

“You think?” She watched me incredulously. Her eyes were unwaveringly on me. I tried to relax my mouth to keep from smiling too much. 

“Well, I was in a car, so I couldn’t hear if it gobbled or not, per say. But it might have gobbled. It had the same turkey thing on its’ chin, and it walked like it probably would have gobbled, if I could hear it. And it made itself look all big and buff, with smaller turkeys around it.” 

“That was the male,” she said. 

“Protecting the females,” I agreed, and nodded. “But I must defer to you on bird knowledge. Do you think it was a grouse?” 

“No,” she conceded. She turned to her stuffed cat, and pulled it into her lap. Then she turned to look back out the window again. 

I tried not to miss a beat. “So what’s your cats’ name? He’s cute.” 

“Remmy.” 

“Where’d you come up with the name?”

“It was Charlies’ cat first. I took it from her. And now he’s mine.” She looked down at the stuffed toy with that same cold expression, then turned back to me. Her eyes were dull. “He’s why she’s dead.”

“So, you want to keep her memory alive?” I asked. She stared at me uncomprehendingly, so I pointed to the cat with a faint smile. “Sorry, I don’t mean to assume. She probably really liked that doll. Now that she’s gone, it’s like having a piece of her left to hold onto, right?” She watched me for a long moment, then tightened her grip on Remmy. 

“She died because I took Remmy away from her,” she said, instead of answering me. “She kept trying to go after him. She died because I wouldn’t give him back.”

“So… Guilt too, then.” 

“I don’t feel guilty.” 

“Sorry,” I chewed on the sour key. “So what do you feel, then?” 

“Nothing.” She looked to the papers on the coffee table. “It says I’m a psychopath, right? Why are you bothering to ask questions if you already have the answer?”

“Well…” I hesitated. “The other psychologist believed something. Maybe she’s right, I don’t know. But hey, I don’t know about you, but I can’t really read her notes that well. It’s kind of hard to make any decisions about you, when the person who said you were a psychopath has notes I can’t even understand.” I turned the papers over to her, and showed her a couple pages. She narrowed her eyes as she leaned in closer to read. “It looks like confusing chicken scratch to me. Maybe it’s some kind of short hand,” I continued. “I don’t know, I’m still deciphering it. But in the mean time, I’d rather get to know you for myself, you know?” 

“It makes sense to me,” Dahlia muttered. Her nose wrinkled, and she turned back to the window, shoving the pages back towards me for good measure. 

“Okay. Maybe it does to you. But I’m not your other psychologist.” I smiled. “I’m not sure there’s a point in focusing on things that have already been said. I’m really just here to know you, as you are. I don’t want to label you. I don’t want to do anything. I just want to listen.” 

“Listen.” Her eyes narrowed, though she didn’t turn her head. “A lot of adults like to say they want to listen. Kids too. No one listens.” 

“Well… You’re not wrong. People don’t listen, a lot of the time. But that’s supposed to be my job here, right?” 

“The last psychologist didn’t listen.” 

“Well then of course her notes wouldn’t make any sense!” I exclaimed. “You probably have all these things to say and she was too busy trying to analyze. Imagine how much you could know, how much you could understand and she just ignored it all! I want to listen to them all. I told you we could talk about anything, and I meant it.” I paused, realizing my explosion, and sheepishly fell back into the armchair. “I mean, if you want to.” 

“People say that when they don’t mean to actually listen. They’re too busy listening to themselves, and they’re stupid. Don’t you have notes to write? The other psychologist buried herself in them.” I held up empty hands and smiled. She sighed. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t have anything. No one ever listens.” 

“I’m listening right now. Talk to me.” 

“Ask a question,” she retorted.

“Uh… Uh… How do you feel about Charlie?” I grasped at straws. That dark look on her face made me flinch. I’d hit the wrong button. 

“I’m glad she’s dead.” 

The chill in her voice struck me as insincere. “What did she do to you?” I blinked. 

“She was annoying. She never listened. And she was always so loud. That’s what got her killed in the end. She wouldn’t listen to me.” 

“Okay… Wait. Too loud? Did she scream?” 

“The whining hurt my ears.” 

“Am I being too loud?” Her face was blank. 

She didn’t say anything for a moment. She pursed her lips, twitched her hands towards her cat in reflex, then paused again. I’d caught her off guard. “No,” she finally said. “You’re not that loud… But the clock is too loud. It’s ticking away when everything else is quiet. It annoys me.” 

“Well, I might be able to get the clock replaced next time, or I could get rid of it altogether. I’ve got a phone, that should tell us the time so I know when the meeting’s over. Would that work?” 

“You’re going to get rid of the clock because I said so?” There was that off-guard lost look again.

I nodded adamantly. “If it’s too loud, then it’s too loud. Tell me if I get loud. Sometimes I get a little overexcited, and I can’t help myself.” I smiled. “I don’t want to hurt your ears.” I took another sour key, and this time she followed suit. “Are you a fan of sour keys?” 

“Not really. They feel like sandpaper on my tongue.” 

“I think there’s some jujubes underneath but they got buried,” I sheepishly tried to sweep the sour candy to the side, but it was a fruitless endeavour. “Sorry, I just kind of thought you’d like sour. It’s one of my favorites.” 

“Why?” 

“I like the puckering taste. If something is just sweet and nothing else, then it’s like you might as well be eating sugar. There’s nothing there. It’s boring, you know?”

“No, why did you think I would like sour?” 

“Because it’s more interesting than boring old sweet?” I tilted my head to the side. “I thought you would like your life spiced up.” 

“I guess.” She chewed on her sour key and went quiet. I let the conversation hang, and let her thoughts percolate. We both ate our candy and watched each other. I wasn’t sure what she was looking for in me. There wasn’t much to see. I must have looked a mess. I hadn’t washed my hair for a while again and my socks were mismatched today. The one blouse I’d manage to wrench away from my poor packing job was hopelessly wrinkled, and it showed. The bags under my eyes were worse than ever before. She must have been disgusted. I know I was, that’s why I avoided looking in the mirror. 

When I paused to look at Dahlia, I forgot myself. I couldn’t believe I’d made it so far talking about nothing but candy and wildlife. I could only hope I had said the right things. When I spoke to her, the world seemed to disappear and all that I cared about was what made her happy right then and there. It was impossible to tell at first. Everything I said was met with a monotone voice and a monotone stare. But sometimes I’d get something in there. Maybe she’d be confused, or lost, or surprised. But it shook her. I could almost forget myself and focus on that when she talked. When it went silent again, I was the lost one. She was right there in front of me, staring right back at me, unblinking. I couldn’t even mind it. Maybe my smile looked strange to her, and she was uncomfortable. I was trying to control it as much as I could, but it just wouldn’t leave my face. She was right there. Right in front of me. 

“Sorry if I look a little weird,” I finally said. “I was just… Really excited to meet you.” 

“Why?” 

I froze, then laughed nervously. “It’s my first job doing this out here. I keep thinking I’m going to get things wrong, and all I’ve been working for up until this point will just be for nothing. Kind of a lot of pressure.” 

She ruminated on that with her candy, then swallowed and put her hands back in her lap. “What if you mess up?” 

I pushed the bowl of candies away from me and towards Dahlia to keep from taking another. “Then the past several years of my life would be for nothing, then. I… I sacrificed a lot to do this. A lot of people counted on me to help them do other things, and I let them down in favor of this.” My back pocket itched, even though I’d turned my phone off and left it on the desk. “There were a lot of choices that I made, specifically for this, because I put all my eggs in one basket. I built my life up under the assumption that this would work.” My smile began to fade. “And this is kind of the big moment of truth.” 

“That sounds stupid,” Dahlia said. “Why would you make your life about only one thing?” 

“I don’t think I can afford to think it’s stupid anymore,” I sighed. “Not at this point. If that one thing is as important to me as this, then I think it’s worth it in the end.” 

“But it is stupid.” She frowned. “Why don’t you do something else too? Why does it have to be one thing?” 

“I… I suppose I tried to do multiple things at once. That didn’t go so well.” 

“Like what?” She asked.

“We were supposed to ask you questions, right?” I smiled hesitantly. “Why don’t we focus on that? You probably have a far more interesting life anyways. So much to talk about. How about the noise, right? Does it ever so anything? Do you ever find yourself thinking things, and then maybe something happens? I’d love to know, just everything I can about you. You’re so interesting, Dahlia.” 

“I don’t want to talk. I want to ask you questions,” She insisted.

“But I don’t have anything to say.” 

“What else did you try to do?” She narrowed her eyes. I gulped, and played with the sleeve of my shirt. 

I got married.” My heart beat slightly faster as I finally spoke up. I was trying to speak through water. Every word was leaden in my mouth. “Once. She was… A nice woman.”  
That certainly threw her off. “A woman?”

“Yeah, we met in high school. She… She was pretty. Curly brown hair, pretty eyes… A smile like nothing else… I was seventeen when I first told her I loved her. It was kind of a stereotypical thing. Cringy, when I look back on it. I… I brought her flowers. Tiger lilies, that day. I was young, and stupid, and I wasn’t really thinking about my future. At least, not like I should have been. That’s kind of how high school is. You never really think past that world. Everything seems like it’s perfect. And then it’s not, the day you graduate.” I couldn’t see Dahlia across from me anymore. All I could see were those dark curls, those soft brown eyes, and that blinding white smile. When she wore that cardigan and I gave her a bouquet. When she walked down the aisle in her gorgeous red dress. And arguments. The crying. The begging. Looking over baby names like an obsessive parent. There was no baby, I told her. There’d never be a baby. The pain seeped into every memory. 

“What happened?” The pain intensified. I couldn’t speak for a moment. My eyes were focused on the bowl of candy, but they were so far away. I could hear someone gasping for breath. I guessed it was me, but I couldn’t seem to stop it. My hands were numb, my head dropped, and the beating of my heart was so loud that I was starting to understand what Dahlia meant. “What are you doing?” I heard. I wish I knew, too. I couldn’t even react to it. I was too busy thinking of every mistake I’d made at once. Work came first. Work had to come first. I could never… She knew that. She knew that day, and she pushed and pushed and she was still pushing now with every call. Begging me to come home. She wouldn’t sign the papers. She wouldn’t believe it. I couldn’t just drop off the face of the earth. I wanted to laugh. Watch me, I’d tell her. Watch me. 

Something grabbed my arm, and I stopped. I turned slowly to look at Dahlia. She was standing beside me, one arm wrapped around her doll, and the other on my clammy skin. She dropped her hand as soon as she’d held on, and glared down at me. “What happened?” 

“I… I don’t know.” 

“You looked weird.” 

“Yes,” I gasped. “I guess I was. Sorry.” Her frown deepened. 

“Isn’t this supposed to be my session? All you’re doing is talking about yourself.” 

“Right… Right… Sorry.” I finally caught my breath, and put a hand over Dahlia’s. She twitched, but didn’t pull away. It was me that flinched back half a second later, when I realized who I was touching. And who was touching me. “Thank you for helping me,” I managed a watery smile. “What do you want to talk about now? We still have time.”

“You’re the one that’s supposed to be asking me questions.” 

“Okay. What questions do you want me to ask?” I offered a small grin. 

Frustrated, she scampered back onto the couch, this time pulling her legs up to perch against a cushion. She was half hidden behind Remmy. “I don’t know. About my mom? About Charlie? Psychologists like to try to make people sound crazy. So ask things that you know will make me sound crazy.” 

“I’m not trying to make you sound crazy. I mean, look at me,” I gestured to myself, still flustered and gasping ever so slightly. The visceral memories were fading, but left in their place was overwhelming exhaustion. “I’m not exactly in tiptop shape either, you know. Most people aren’t.” 

“You’re just weird,” she frowned. “What you did wasn’t normal. I’ve never seen an adult act like that before.”

“What’s wrong with being weird?” 

“It’s bad,” she muttered. 

“Why is it bad? Who told you that?” 

“The kids at school,” she said blandly. “Most other people. T.V. It’s supposed to be bad, I guess. I don’t know why.” 

Alarm bells were going off in my head. I wracked my brain for the proper response. She watched me like I was some kind of strange creature on display, waiting for me to break down again. I could understand why, even if it was embarrassing. I thought Id gotten a handle on it ages ago. As long as I stopped thinking about it, it worked. Dahlias’ look was just so strange. Entrancing.

“Are you being bullied, Dahlia?” I finally asked.

“I guess.” She shrugged. “The kids at school don’t really stay around me. I scare them, apparently. I’m ‘weird’. Miranda said I was a psychopath.” Her eyes darkened. “She’s wrong.”

“Why?” I blinked. “Maybe it’s the eyes…”

“My eyes?” She looked up at me. 

“Well, when we’ve been talking, I noticed that you tend to do so in a monotone way. And you don’t often show your emotions with your eyes, like other people do. Instead, you just like to observe, right?” 

She said nothing. 

I continued. “It’s like I can’t pick up what you really feel through the way that you look. That can be off-putting for a lot of people, I’d guess. I don’t really mind it. But it’s a different way of acting. And that scares people. Difference is strange.”

“I don’t know how to change that.” 

“Well, is it something that even has to be changed? I mean, it’s just you. You’re you, Dahlia.” My eyes gleamed. “And you know, that’s pretty awesome. I mean, different is strange but strange doesn’t necessarily mean bad. It’s just strange. You could probably accomplish a lot more than they could. It’s because you’re different that it make you who you are.” I bit my lip to keep from saying anything stupid. There were so many things I wanted to tell her. The end goal, the possibility of having her agree to come back with me, was jumping at the bit at the chance to strike. It was far too soon. She barely knew me.

Dahlias’ face dropped even further, if possible. She curled up into the recesses of the couch, and gripped Remmy so tightly that I thought she’d pop the head right off the poor doll. Her eyes wavered between me without looking at my eyes, to the bowl of candy, and finally settled on the window to the outside world again. They zeroed in on the lake across from us, and stayed there. 

“My mom thinks I’m wrong. She thinks I’m a psychopath.” She rubbed her fingers against Remmy’s ear. “The last psychologist ruined everything when she told my mom that.”

“What?” I moved closer, and tried to maintain eye contact with her. “Why would you say that? What did she do? What did your mom say?” 

“I killed Charlie, because I couldn’t save her.” Her eyes met with mine. She refused to look away. To anyone else, it would have been terrifying, to see that cold expression. But I saw desperation. She wanted something to hold onto. Remmy wasn’t enough. It was as though I were staring into a void. “She thinks it’s my fault. She hates me.” 

I had to force myself to not reach out to hug her. 

“I… I’m sorry,” I whispered instead. “I’m sorry she says that about you. It’s wrong. A mother should always love their child.” Pangs of guilt ate away at me even now. ‘A mother should always love her child’, God, what was I to dare speak like that. I shouldn’t be here. I was the least qualified for this damned position. I couldn’t do kids. I could never do kids. 

But she was hurting. I wanted to help her. I couldn’t help but want to reach out, and pluck that hand that blindly searched for something.

“And never hit them?” She murmured.

I sat up. “She hits you?” Dahlia bit her lip, and went silent. “Dahlia. You need to talk to me if she’s hurting you.” I moved closer, but her eyes narrowed, and I stopped. “You need to tell me. It’s serious. You can talk here. I’ll listen. I promise I will. You just have to tell me, okay?”

When she finally spoke again, it was while she was looking at the clock. 

“I think the time is up.”


	9. Chapter 9

Dahlia 

The psychologists’ building was marked by a suite number on the front in red. I’d never noticed before. The window that I’d always faced offered a view of the back, where the parking lot and lake were always visible. But I never bothered to look up to the front before when mom drove us in. I would always follow her, ignore the other children in the waiting room, and wait to be called in for another session with a clock that was too loud. There wasn’t much of a point of looking up.

It was because of this that I hadn’t noticed the garden. The front was marked by carefully maintained topiary and flowerbeds that stretched to the edge of the tree line. Beyond that, spots of forest and more houses for people that preferred to live further away from Main Street were clustered around. The town slowly devolved into forest the further out you went, until the nearest landmark would be the next town miles away.

There were no parking lots at the front of the building like there was at the back, just a road. It twined around to join with the parking lot at the back of the building. That’s where everyone got out of their cars, and fell into step to join everyone else to talk to psychologists. The road seamlessly blended into the garden on the front, as much as it didn’t in the back. In the front, the road was lined on each side by white stones the size of my fist. The pavement might have been cracked and old, but all of the landscaping work was new. The footpaths were the same careful maintenance, thought they had gravel in the middle. They crisscrossed around the gardens to allow someone the chance to look through each of the individual plants wilting in the oppressive heat. They must have been planted months before anyone knew there was going to be a heat wave. The front door of the building that was used more as a back door was connected to one of these paths, which streamed along the gardens and neatly trimmed bushes until it led to its eventual goal.

The gazebo wasn’t big, but it could hold enough people. It was white on both the sides and the roof, either from being bleached by the sun, or by a designers’ choice. Either way, it reflected the heat of the scorching day with its blinding sheen. Underneath, it was as cool as sitting the shade of the tree. It stood at the very edge of the garden, bordered by the pines and maples. When I looked deeper into the forest, I could almost see animals lying in wait in the darkness. The heat prickled at the edge of my vision when I tried to focus on those dark shapes that looked almost like figures, and light obscured it ever so slightly. But when I blinked, it was gone. They were just shadows. Not animals. There was nothing to see. It was almost disappointing.

“What do you think?” Genevieve asked when we’d finally made it under the shade of the building. “I didn’t discover this until days after I’d settled in. I’ve been kind of oblivious. But it’s beautiful, right?” 

“It’s nice, I guess.” I rubbed at the crumbling paint that had been hastily plastered onto the wooden railing. It might not have been bleached by the sun, but it was still peeling because of it. Underneath, the wood was bright and strong. There was no reason for the painters to use such a splotchy color job when there was perfectly good wood underneath it. 

“It’s kind of carefully maintained, though, isn’t it?” She said offhandedly. “Not as natural as I’d like. Maybe next time we could go on a trail.” Realizing there was no bench for us to sit on, she ended up plopping down on the wooden floor of the gazebo instead. She narrowly missed a pile of bird poop, but she didn’t even seem to notice it. The writing pad she had brought under the pretext of taking notes had already been cast aside and left completely forgotten. 

“The paint is already chipping off,” I said. I turned to look out across the forest. “And it’s boring here. It’s just cars and the wind.”

“As boring as the office?” She asked. Her legs moved until she was in a cross-legged position, then she grabbed her feet and pulled until she was stretching her legs. She looked like a child. 

“No,” I said eventually. “The office is worse. And louder.”

“I still felt like there wasn’t enough to do there, other than eat candy and talk. And we can’t snack on candy forever, can we?” I looked back at her incredulously. I could never tell whether she expected me to answer questions like that, or if I should let her talk about stupid things. They always ended up sounding like questions, but more often than not, she just moved onto the next topic of conversation without so much as a pause. Or sometimes there would be a pause, like she wanted me to answer, but then she’d move on anyways. Either way, it didn’t matter. Most of her questions were stupid, and I didn’t know how to answer them anyways. Most of the time I didn’t say a word and she kept talking. I didn’t have to think about what to say, or what to do. 

She was pausing this time, so I pointedly pulled Remmy closer into my arms, turned around to face her, and didn’t sit down. 

“You want to stand?” 

“The wood will scratch my legs.” I’d worn shorts today.

“That’s true. I wonder if I can steal cushions from the lounge for next time…” She ducked her head sheepishly. “But I’m kind of worried about running into the lady that runs the place. She thinks I’m kind of a weirdo and I’ve already done more than enough to garner her suspicion.”

“Suspicion?” 

“Well…” She bit her lip and stretched her arms further to pull back on her feet. “She thinks I’m not exactly qualified for the work I’m doing.” 

I looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Haven’t you been working on this for your whole life? We’ve already had enough sessions that she should stop caring, shouldn’t she?”

“You remembered?” Her eyes lit up. 

“I guess.” I turned my attention to Remmy, and rubbed his ears. When I glanced back up at her, she was still smiling.

“So, anything new happened in your life?” She asked me. 

My mother and I had left last meeting with Genevieve quietly and without incident, but I kept finding myself looking back at her the car ride come. The more she glanced back at me, the more her eyes would narrow, and the more she frowned. 

That silence grew longer. 

I thought perhaps, if I held my tongue, she might talk. That it would have to happen eventually, and maybe then there might be the sting on my cheek again, and then we could go to the beach. I kept to my room, never saying a word to her, kept my gaze down, and waited for something to happen. Something churned in my stomach every day that she didn’t talk to me. I kept waiting in my room for her to speak to me. But there was nothing. Whenever I tried to catch her eye, the two of us would look at each other for a second, and then she would turn away with a hiss at the edge of her voice. But no words. 

I tried looking in the mirror the next day, and tried to understand what I felt. If there was a feeling at all. I stared at myself. I was just me. There was nothing more to me than me, and Remmy. Just me. 

I tried tightening the muscles on my face. My lips rose up, sliding to change their features. I revealed my teeth, heightened the muscles on my cheeks until they eclipsed my eyes somewhat. My eyes then caught the light of the bathroom. I held that position for a few seconds and looked at myself. I tried to see a difference, in anything. 

But there was nothing in a smile. It was hollow. And I didn’t care for it. 

I dropped the smile, and returned to my regular state, then looked again. It was still me. I touched my eyes, trying to see what part of them was wrong. But they were just eyes. There was nothing to them. There was nothing there that people should be afraid of, or that was wrong with me. 

The minutes ticked by. There was something at the edge of my mind that nagged at me. But it was a silly, stupid idea. That there was something wrong. That the others were right. That I was bad, that anything was bad. That I was a psychopath. That I had to fix myself. 

I sat on the floor of the bathroom then, and drew Remmy into my arms. I wanted to know why I fought that idea. But I couldn’t seem to find the answer. People never listened, and that was the answer. People were wrong. My mother was wrong. Charlie was wrong, and that’s why she died. I was right. I was always right, and everyone hated me because of that. The world was just a series of stupid mistakes that everyone made because they were too dumb to see the real answer to the question. The logical answer. I looked up to the mirror again to try to see over the counter and into my own eyes, but I was too short from my sitting position. 

Why did people smile, if they were so wrong? 

“I went to the store with my mother,” I said to Genevieve, and waited for some whimsical response. She just nodded adamantly, and leaned forward to listen more. There was no window to look out from here, so I just stared at her. She never flinched. “I went to the library, after.” 

“No classes, right? It’s summer and everything. Man, you must be having a great time then.” I just shrugged. “Do you like the forest, Dahlia?” 

“I like the quiet. And there are always things to see in there.”

“Is it quiet in a forest? There’s birds, aren’t there?” 

“It’s quieter than the town. There’s cars in the town. I can hear them from here.” She blinked in surprise. 

“Really? I can’t hear them at all. Have you ever gotten your hearing checked?”

“No.” 

“Maybe you have super hearing…” She grabbed the pad of paper and started scribbling with a gleam in her eye. When she looked up to see me narrowing my eyes, she paused with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, you wanna see? I’m just writing down super hearing possibilities. You talk about things being too loud, a lot of the time. It makes me wonder…” 

“Wonder what?” 

She bit her lip, and for a moment looked almost guilty. “What happens when things get really loud,” she said. “When’s the last time things were overwhelmingly loud for you?” 

“Charlie,” I said without thinking. “When Charlie died.” 

“Oh…” She trailed off. “Okay, maybe we don’t have to talk about that.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to talk about things like that?”

“But it upsets you, doesn’t it?” 

“No.” I tilted my head forward. “I can talk about it. When she fell into the water, it was because I didn’t grab her hand. And she didn’t know how to swim, and even if she did, the water was way too strong. She was carried down the current and then there was this noise like a watermelon hitting the ground, and her head got smashed on a rock. And then she was dead.” I shrugged. 

There was silence from the woman for a solid few seconds. Her eyes watered, like she’d stubbed her toe.

“… Can… Can I hold your hand?” Genevieves’ voice wavered. 

“What?” I leaned back and held closer onto Remmy. “Why?”

“I don’t know… Because you look like you need it?” 

“I don’t.”

“Well…” She shrugged, but she wiped her eyes before she continued. “I just… I guess I just thought you might want something like that. I don’t have any siblings myself but it sounds terrible. I have no idea just how much you might be going through.” 

“It’s not terrible. She’s just dead.” I glared at her, and pushed Remmy to the side. “That’s all. Now mom can worry less about feeding me and there’s more things we can buy because there’s one kid instead of two. I get to go to the beach more because she feels guilty. There’s pizza in the fridge.”

“Wait.. I thought your mom hated you.” Genevieve put the note pad to the side, and drew uncomfortably closer. I pressed my back up against the wooden poles of the gazebo. “Did she hurt you again? You need to tell me every time she does.” She watched me too closely. “I want to help you, if there’s something bad going on. What did she do this time?”

“She hasn’t, lately. Not since we last spoke.” I turned to look back at the forest. Genevieve eyes were staring too hard. “She only did it when I talked to her. She got sick of me, so I tried not talking to her. But she won’t talk to me at all, now.” 

“Why?” 

“She doesn’t want to. She hates me. We haven’t gone to the beach or done anything for a while, either. I guess she doesn’t feel guilty anymore.” I shrugged. “I think I can get her to do what I want to in the end, though. She can’t be like this forever.” 

“Dahlia…” I flinched at hand on my shoulder, and she drew her hand back immediately. 

“Why are you touching me?” I said abruptly. 

“Sorry. I’ll keep my hands to myself. Every time you say something like that, I have this urge to console you.” She moved back, and I could breathe again. 

“I don’t need consoling. I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine. I’m sorry about your mom. There might be a way to solve it, but I don’t know how extreme I should be.” She leaned back against the wooden rails and sighed, looking up at the cobwebs under the roof. “Hitting a child is a serious, serious thing. It’s the kind of thing where someone could call the government.”

“And then what?” 

“You get taken away.” I lowered my eyes. “I know you’re not happy there, Dahlia. If she’s abusing you, I can help. I can get someone to make sure, and then take you somewhere safe.” 

“I don’t need to leave.” I raised an eyebrow. “She’s just stupid. And it didn’t really hurt. My mom is too busy being mean because she thinks I killed Charlie, and I did. But she deserved it. She’ll get over herself, eventually. And then she’ll give me what I want again. It’s not hard. I just have to wait for her to give up on Charlie.” 

“She loved Charlie, right?” Genevieve sighed. “I don’t know anything about being a mom. But if someone loves a child, they never really stop. At least, that’s what I think happens. I don’t know for sure. But did she ever yell at Charlie before? Did she ever do anything to her before? Or was it always just you?” 

I tried to recall. Those days before had been filled with my mother showering my younger sister in toys, food, and trips. Taking things away from her upset her of course. When I took something of hers, Charlie would cry, I’d get into trouble, and the cycle would repeat. I’d listen to her whimpers from a young age, when I stole something of hers and kept it in my room. I didn’t want it, and I didn’t need it, but I kept my door closed and I kept the thing hidden, and eventually, my mother would either find it again and give it back to her against my wishes, or buy another one. Just like that, she’d give something else to Charlie, and something else in my room would only start to remind me of that. But there was something my mother couldn’t fix. Charlie knew what I could do. She knew that any time she liked something too much, I could take it away. And the more Charlie learned her place and not to talk mom about the things I took away from her that she didn’t deserve, the more I felt… Right. The hits from my mother then had been fewer, and far between. They’d still happened, but the punishments used to be different. She’d lock me in my room, without supper. Or she wouldn’t let me go to the beach with her and Charlie. I wouldn’t get a popsicle for dinner. And I wouldn’t have to listen to Charlie, if I was stuck in my room. 

But then I had to stay in my room, and listen to her and my mother laugh about a television show that I never understood. They got to share a bowl of chips and talk about the stupid lessons that Charlie learned in school that anyone could know. My mom hugged Charlie. 

Charlie got everything. 

My grip tightened on Remmy. “My mom is stupid,” I muttered. 

“She’s human.” Genevieve breathed out slowly. “I think almost all of them are stupid.” 

“She’s worse,” I insisted. 

“What did she do?”

I didn’t know what to say. I stared at Genevieve instead. She waited for an answer, but when it was clear she wasn’t getting one, she looked up at the ceiling of the gazebo in silence. Her eyes were dark brown, but her skin was pale as ice. Every time she stood in the sunlight, she got red. That’s why we hid in the gazebo. Her face was sharp, with cheeks bones right along her eyes, and her hair hung like soft waves of weeping willow. I could never tell her age, but my best guess was anywhere between her mid twenties to her later thirties. The wrinkles on her face seemed to be from frowning and squinting her eyes, more than from age. I found it interesting how her body so thin that her wrists seemed to be little more than bone. 

“Maybe there’s something there, that you can’t feel just yet,” she finally said. “Sometimes I feel like I’m dreaming.” A hand stretched out from her slender body, and she waved it out towards the webs inside the gazebo that blew in the faint breeze. “Like everything that’s happened up until this point is just a pleasant delusion. Or a nightmare, maybe. This could be hell.” 

She was doing it again. 

“This is supposed to be my session.” 

“I know. I’m getting to that.” She looked back down at me, then dropped her hand. “Do you ever feel like that? Like you’re dreaming?” 

“No.” She frowned, and my stomach churned.

“Do you believe in fairies?” 

“No.” 

“Ghosts?” 

“No.” 

“Demons?”

“No.”

“Santa Claus? You must believe in Santa Claus.” 

“I’m not five.” 

“The tooth fairy, at the very least.” 

“That’s a fairy. No.” 

She closed her eyes, and another deep sigh tore through her. When she opened them again, her eyes were focused on me alone. 

“God?” 

I frowned. “Mom doesn’t take me to church unless there’s a bake sale. And we haven’t done that since Charlie died.” 

“Alright then.” She sat up straighter. “What do you believe in?” 

“Nothing.” 

“That’s not true. Everyone believes in something. It can be real, but they believe in it like it’s some kind of important thing they can always look to. Like, I believe in my theories. And science. I believe in work. What do you believe in?” 

I held up Remmy. “Remmy. And myself.” 

“Remmy?” She paused, then grinned as wide as ever. “That’s a good thing to believe in. Do you ever wonder what it would be like if he was real?”

“A real cat?” I turned him around, and the two of us looked at each other. He stared back unblinkingly with his button eyes. “No, not really. He’s just a stuffed animal. There’s nothing to him.” 

“But you believe in him,” she pushed. “There’s something more to him than that. Do you ever wonder what it would be like to believe in something so hard that it’s real? That if you think hard enough, it might actually happen?”

“No.” She deflated, but she wasn’t to be deterred entirely. 

“What happens when things are too loud?” She asked. “Do you feel anything? Do you see anything weird?” 

“No.” 

“Please Dahlia. You can tell me if you do. I won’t tell.” She moved closer again. “I promise I’ll listen. I want to know about you.” 

I took a deep breath, then closed my eyes. “You’re being loud.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be-”

“I see color.” She went quiet. I tried to remember. All of that talking about what had happened to Charlie, but when it came down to it, that moment I held out my hand to her, it all came back in flashes. “When it got too loud with Charlie, there was color at the edge of my vision. Everything kept getting stronger and stronger, like my eyes were coated in goop on the sides, and then there were these fireworks going off. And I think I tried to grab her hand then. It hurt. It was just annoying. I hated it. I hate when it’s loud. It’s like the world is spinning upside down and I’m swimming through mud, and I hate it.” When I opened my eyes, Genevieve was staring back with wide eyes. 

I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure about the way she looked at me. “I tried to smile, last week,” I continued. “You said my eyes were weird. And I didn’t smile. So I tried. And it’s not anything. There’s nothing to it. It’s just a smile. And it doesn’t look right. You were wrong. I shouldn’t have listened to you.” 

Genevieve was writing in her notes. 

“Stop that,” I said abruptly. 

“Hm?” She didn’t look up. I kicked out and glared at her, almost dropping Remmy in my arms.

“Stop writing that I’m a psychopath.” 

“I’m not.” She looked up at me in shock. “Dahlia, I’m really not. I’m writing that there’s something there. That you’re not just one thing.” I froze. “What kind of psychopath is upset that their mother isn’t there for them, hates them in fact? What kind of psychopath so desperately wants to learn to smile? Dahlia…” Her voice broke up. “When I look at you, I see someone who was pushed away for not being the kind of person that everyone wants her to be. I see someone that wants to find a way to connect, even with the handicaps she has. I see someone I wish I could bring home with me, somewhere safe and away from this. But I have my job.” She tried to clear her voice with a quick cough. “I have my job, and I can’t do that. Even if I want to. Because you’re special.” I narrowed my eyes. 

She was hiding something. The way her face shifted and changed to look to the side, the way she twitched and couldn’t sit still on her side of the gazebo. She kept interrupting herself to say something different. It had been like this from the beginning with each session. But at this point it felt more real than ever before. 

“Why don’t you tell me the truth?” She flinched, and I confirmed it for myself. 

“I am,” She muttered. “Just not all of it. I can’t.”

“Why?” 

“I wouldn’t be hiding it, if I could tell you. But there are things in this world that when you tell someone, they won’t believe you.”

“You don’t lie,” I said. “You always say what you want. It’s annoying.”

“But it would sound like a lie, or like you think I’m crazy. I don’t want to upset you. But I don’t want to lie.” Her eyes softened. “Dahlia, you have no idea just how special you are to me. You the light that shines when I feel like I’ve got nowhere else to turn to. You’re my everything.” My throat tightened. “And I feel… Shitty, for that. I feel shitty for putting pressure on you, when that’s the last thing you need. You’re a kid…” She chuckled sadly to herself. “Or so some people tell me. But I want to tell you everything. I want you to feel like we can talk together about everything and that you can trust me. But it’s not safe here. And I’m not sure when it will be. Or if you’ll believe me. I don’t know what to do, really.” 

“If I told you I trusted you, would you tell me?” I asked. 

“If I told you what it was, I don’t think you’d ever trust me again.” 

I tightened my jaw. “I don’t know what it is that has you lying, when you’re the kind of person that always tells the truth.” I looked down at the splintered wooden flooring of the gazebo, and poked at it. I couldn’t look her in the eye when her eyes sparkled like that. “That’s the part I don’t understand. You talk so fast. You don’t have the time to lie. You’re not good at it.” I glanced tentatively back up, then lowered my eyes again. “You’re not like any adult I’ve ever met. Whenever we talk, you stumble over words, and you act like a child. Like Charlie, almost. I expect you to whine at me that we should go get pizza. And I don’t get it. What are you trying to hide that you’re so bad at?”

“Dahlia!” A voice called from the front of the building, and the both of us flinched when we realized who it was. Genevieve craned her neck over to see, but I watched my mothers’ form without issue, striding angrily towards us and casting pebbles to the side in her wake. Her nose was wrinkled, her face downturned like a mule. There was an unlit cigarette in one hand, and a pack of them in the other that she pocketed as she stormed towards us. 

“Ms. Benn!” Genevieve shouted as she stood up. She tried to meet my mother outside of the gazebo, but she was too fast. She closed the gap, trapping the therapist inside and watching me like a hawk. 

“Where have you two been? It’s been nearly two hours, and you’re out here? You didn’t even tell me! I never signed off on her being outside like this. I don’t even know who you are, you’re practically a stranger!” 

“I’m her psychologist, Ms. Benn,” Genevieve reminded her. “I just-”

“I know who you are!” My mother didn’t care. She was in an annoying mood. “You don’t understand and I’m not about to listen to mind games. It doesn’t matter. You’re a stranger who took my daughter away without my consent and didn’t bother to check the clock. I have places to go, I have to get her home, make dinner - this is incredibly unprofessional!” 

“I didn’t realize you would be so upset, I apologize.” Genevieve’s voice was carefully even.

“I could go to your manager about this. What if you had taken her and kidnapped her? There are serious child endangerment laws you’re breaking.” 

Genevieve flinched. “No need, I promise I won’t do this again. Dahlia was complaining about the office, I just thought a different space might help her open up. She said the clock was too loud, and the office itself wasn’t much better. I’m sorry for not telling you. But this isn’t a big deal.” 

“Not a big deal?” My mother fumed. “Who do you think you are, saying that to me? What do you take me for?” The more she spoke, the more hysterical she got. There were tears at the corners of her eyes. I have been able to see her cry again. “You know I’ve already lost a child, and now you’re running off with the other one, and you think that I’d just be fine with it? She lies and does whatever she thinks she can get away with, she’s her own worst nightmare!”

“I don’t lie-”

“Shut up, Dahlia!” My mother snapped. “The other psychologist already diagnosed her. You’re supposed to be picking up where she left off. No more, no less.” Her voice hardened. “She’s a psychopath and you’re being manipulated, don’t you get it? She’s going to be like that to get what she wants. You can’t trust her. And she is going to end up the same way, trying to manipulate the wrong people. So you should be fixing that, instead of contributing to it!” 

I’d never seen Genevieve look like she wanted to kill someone before. I guess I hadn’t known her very long. But it was interesting to see her eyes darken, her entire posture freeze up, and her chewed fingernails dig into the palms of her hands.

“Fine,” Genevieve muttered. “Take your daughter, and go.” I went to fall into step behind my mother. She’d already turned as soon as she came, but she stopped in her tracks when Genevieve spoke again. “But I’ll take your daughter where she wants to go.”

“Excuse me?”

“If Dahlia wants to be outside, I’ll take her outside?” 

“Do you know what you’re saying?” 

“I’m saying that I’m sure CPS would love to hear about your abuse of your daughter. I’ve certainly heard enough stories of what you’ve done to her.” 

My mothers’ body tightened. The unlit cigarette dropped to the ground from her shaking hands. I couldn’t tell why. Maybe she was angrier than I thought she was. I kept wondering though, why she bothered with this act. It wasn’t me she was afraid for, it was Charlie. All of this was just more of her wanting Charlie. She didn’t need to pretend to be afraid. Or maybe she was making things up, to throw off Genevieve. I couldn’t tell, and that frustrated me. There was a sudden flash of something on my mothers’ face, a turn towards Genevieve, and then her face fell into a flat, hard set line.

“Who do you think you are, accusing me of that? Now I know I’m talking to your manager.” My mother reached for me, grabbed me by the shoulder, and wrenched her ahead of me. “And I’m making absolutely sure that you never work in Lincoln again, understand me? I’m not bringing Dahlia back. Not when you speak like this to me.” I froze at the realization, and twisted around. 

“Mom, no. You can’t do that. I need to see her again.” I held as tightly as I could onto Remmy. 

“You’ll stay home those days, in your room, and think about what you did, understand me?”

“You can’t do that, I have to see her.” I grabbed her by the arm, but she threw me back with a hiss. The fall back into the pebbles was sharp and painful, and for a second my mind was just as sharp in breadth of color. The gazebos’ white color was overly bright, the sun was blinding, and the color of the grass was so green that it could have been neon. Their voices dimmed, and the world moved slowly. My mother was red seeping from every orifice. Genevieve glowed with a faint teal and green tone. I tried to hold my hands up to my face, but there was nothing. I was black. A non-thing, surrounded by color so vibrant that it blotted out my vision and faded to a blinding white. Silence covered my senses like a heavy blanket. It felt like ages before I found my feet. I tried got up in what felt like water rushing all around my unsteady legs and searched desperately for Remmy. I couldn’t see him anywhere. I couldn’t see anything, anywhere. 

In a sea of nothing, I could finally catch the faint green tone of color that surrounded the thinnest outline of a cat. I picked Remmy up, held him as tightly as I could to my chest, and tried not to cry. It overwhelmed me, the fear and misery and pain and everything was so painful and I couldn’t feel my legs and Charlie was dead and it was my fault and there were colors streaming from my eyes and 

And the world returned to my senses. 

“I’ll file a police report, then,” my mother was shouting at Genevieve. “You’ll be run out of this town before you know it!” 

“You can’t,” I said again. My tongue felt numb in my mouth. “I have the meetings. I have to do the meetings.” 

“You don’t have to do anything. You can learn to be like everyone else in school or you’ll end up locked up just like your father, and I won’t have you talking to psychologists that play games with you and make you think that your behaviour is warranted. Got it?” 

“I don’t understand.” I clutched Remmy tight against my chest. “Father? What’s going on? Everything was bright, I’m confused-”

“Ugh, whatever. Let’s go. I don’t want to hear anything from you.”

“I’m not bluffing, you know,” Genevieve called back over my mothers’ shoulder as she started to storm away. I could feel my knees starting to sting. Pain was returning, along with every other sense. But I still felt barely present. “You’ll just speed up the process. If hear that you’ve been abusing her again, I can have that home searched, a background check done on you, and Dahlia can offer a statement if she wants. Dahlia,” She called back to me. I tried to walk towards her, but my legs felt weak. In flashes, I could see her face. Color. Teal, green, blue, blocking out her eyes and nose and mouth and wisping around her like some kind of cloud. She knelt to my level, and her eyebrows furrowed. “If you’re scared, you don’t have to go home with her. You don’t have to stay with someone that hurts you. I’m here, if you want to talk with me. You can stay.” She reached her hand out to me. “You can stay, if you want.” 

“Something’s wrong,” I muttered. 

“What?” 

“I don’t… I don’t feel right.” 

“Dahlia.” My mother started to walk back towards me when she realized I wasn’t following her. But I held tight onto Genevieve. 

“There’s something wrong, isn’t there? With the loud. The color.” I looked up at her, and felt something stirring in my chest when her eyes went wide. “There’s something wrong, and I don’t understand it.”

“I can’t help you figure out what it is, Dahlia,” Genevieve muttered urgently. “What’s happening, do you see things? Can you feel things? Things that aren’t there?”

“I saw color. Everywhere. You’re green and blue and my mother-” 

A vice gripped my arm and pulled me away from my psychologist. I could hear my mother shouting, but it barely registered. Something was terribly wrong. The world was suddenly real and Genevieve was the only one that understood why. I needed her and yet I was being dragged away from her. Second after second ticked by as I slowly disappeared back towards the parking lot by my mother’s screaming grasp. 

“Mother, you can’t!” I tried to pull away from her, but her grip tightened until it was painful. “I want to go with Genevieve!” 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” My mother growled. “That woman is a lunatic, and we’re going home.”


	10. Chapter 10

Jennifer 

Work moved quickly.  
The call from Mr Laurent was expected, but I still jumped at the sound of my phone ringing. “How long?” He said. No greeting, no introduction, just a simple phrase. I frowned, but tried to maintain a smile as I looked over the long forgotten emails on my laptop. The office was cold, and silent without the clock on the wall. Soothing. I understood why Dahlia hated it so much, I hadn’t realized how much the ticking strained my ears until it was gone. These emails more than made up for it. I’d avoided them, and now there were hundreds. I’d be kicking myself for a while yet. 

“Not long. Days, maybe. We’re in the right position to negotiate with Ms. Benn. If she’s smart, she’ll believe the bluff, take the compensation, and stay quiet. If she’s stubborn, I have our people on standby.” Hearing that from my own voice was chilling.

“CPS?” 

“That’s what she thinks.” The Company had more than enough connections, but we could handle this with our own.

“You don’t sound very excited.” My nostrils flared. Of course he’d hear it in my voice. 

“This is a delicate situation, sir. I know Dahlia. I know that this is going to be difficult. The last thing I want is for her to hate me, for what we’re doing. I’m worried.” 

“You should be worried on how to unlock that power you claim she’s got. You’re not focusing on the goal here.” 

“In order for me to focus on the goal, I need to make sure that everything is being taken care of for the time being.” I passed over an email from Jesse. Nothing personal, just more background information that was growing increasingly less useful and more distant to the actual situation at hand. I didn’t need to know that Dahlias’ great-grandparents moved up from Kentucky, and he knew that just as much as I did. What he was trying to play with information like that, I couldn’t understand. Did he want me to pay attention? Was he trying to get back at me for disregarding him? Did he think I’d forgotten him? My stomach turned as I deleted the email and went on to the next one. That day out enjoying each other’s company was sounding more and more like an emergency necessity. 

“Is the girl in a stable state of mind?” 

“I… I think so.” The question teetered back and forth in my head. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a hard question. Dahlia is Dahlia. She’s never one to be unstable. But she doesn’t feel like we do. She doesn’t understand things like we do, and I’m not sure any of the psychologists we have would be a good match for her once we brought her back. I think… I think keeping her with me as her psychologist might be for the best.”

“I don’t mean to rain on your parade here Jenny, but you’re not a psychologist. This is all smoke and mirrors for you to go a basic assessment of her powers, right? Any other assessment is a little unofficial.”

“She doesn’t need a psychologist like the ones we have, sir.” My phone buzzed with another text message in the middle of our call, and I tried to pretend it never happened. “I got a lot of talk from her about the previous one. Small town, treated her pretty poorly, didn’t have training. I don’t think training even matters at this point. Even one of ours on staff isn’t going to have the connection that I have to her. She wants a friend, even if she doesn’t say it.” I looked over my hand, at those nails I’d clipped only recently to avoid the stubble of chewed fingers. I’d touched her with these hands. I’d nearly held her. I took a slow breath, and tried to contain myself. “She needs someone that cares about her wellbeing.” 

“You’re sounding a little attached there, Jen.” 

“She’s my life’s work, sir.” I smiled at the screen. Another update of the installation had been sent off for my confirmation. It was finally finished. I looked over the pictures, of the rooms now neat, tidy and fully wired thanks to a certain mechanic’s help, then frowned at the bedroom. It was pink, with fluffy comforters, dolls, toys, and picture books about caterpillars. All wrong. Dahlia would hate it. I’d have to make another call. “These weeks, months of talking to her, learning about her, I’ve… well, I’ve grown attached. I can’t help it.” 

“Aw, sweet. You sound like a doting mother.” His voice was dry. “Don’t let that get in the way of our mission. You pushed yourself into the spot you’re in now because you’re impatient. And I get that. The other side of the coin is passion, determination. Not taking no for an answer isn’t always bad. But remember who you are. Who you’re representing here. The Company doesn’t fail, and we don’t get nostalgic over little psychopathic kids. You’re not being manipulated, right? She’s not some kind of mastermind kid murderer we gotta deal with? I wouldn’t want that being a God, of all things. You can’t iron out those kinks on your own.” 

“She trusts me, sir,” I sighed. “When we remove her from this town and place her in holding, she’s going to need someone. I’m prepared to be there for her. She’s not what you think. And… I think she knows.” 

“Knows what?”

“About her powers.” 

“You’re kidding me. Do we need plan B?” 

“No. Nothing like that. She doesn’t have any idea what she’s capable of. God knows that. But she knows there’s something wrong.” My breath hitched when I remembered those fearful calls out to me. Begging for my help. She wasn’t monotone, she wasn’t nothing, then. She was afraid. Agonizingly afraid. She could have taken my hand, then. She could have reached out and held me and I would have taken her away. “She can see color in a few circumstances.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” 

“I don’t know. All I know is that when she’s in trouble, things happen. She’s referred to it as color. I’ve been trying to document it, but it’s a difficult pattern to pin down. Even as we’ve grown more comfortable with each other, she’s not always forthcoming. This color has to be some kind of manifestation of her powers, though. I’m sure of it. Also, her hearing seems to be stronger than most, or maybe she’s more aware of it. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure where the mental illness ends, and the editor begins.” 

“Right, right. I get it. But this is good news, Jen, isn’t it? You don’t have to be afraid that there’s a mistake. There’s definitely something there. Now all we have to do is mine it out, right?” 

I paused over another email. Damien had probably got my address from the database. He hadn’t prefaced it with my name, but just started right into the words. We needed to talk. I had to meet him at the coffee shop. No, it wasn’t a date, but we needed to talk, and he needed to get something off his chest. He needed to tell me something and it wasn’t something we could talk about over email. It had been months. I bet he thought I’d forgotten. I hope he’d be happy to know I’d listened to his advice.

I archived the email, and listened to static on the other end of the phone. “Jen?” Mr. Laurent finally asked. 

“Sir? Yes – ah – I’m still here.” 

“Good. I want the target back in the facility within this week. Testing should begin the week after, at most. Sooner the better.”

I blinked. “So soon? She should have time to get used to this. I can’t just tell her what we’re doing and expect her to accept it. You have no idea how hard it was for even me to-”

“Who said she has to know?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“She’s not the important thing here, Jen. This is all about powers. Not the girl. Remember that.” 

“She needs to know. She’ll never listen if she’s kept in the dark. You know that. We’d be dealing with a rogue Editor, that can’t be good-” 

“I don’t know that. What I know is that I trust you, and I know you’ll make the right decision. The whole board is growing more trusting of you by the smallest inch day after day that we see results, and it’s only if those results are quick and timely. I keep telling the Corporal that I know you can do it. I know what you’re capable of. I know that you’ll be able to bring everything together. But they only listen to results, Jen. I’m sticking my neck out for you and even that can only go so far. You have to hold up your end of the bargain. You understand?”

“Yes… Sir.” I’d responded to Damien’s email. Maybe I shouldn’t have It depended on Dahlia’s cooperation to make this all go in a timely manner. I know I should have assumed it would have been difficult. But within the next week… I’d have time. I could see him. I could do it.

“Right. Then I should get off now. I’ll give you the new number through email to contact me with if you want to call again.” He chuckled. “I’ve always preferred hearing someone’s voice on the other end of the line, you know? But having to change phones every time, well, that’s a hassle I guess I have to deal with. Sacrifices. Everything is always sacrifices, isn’t it? You know about sacrifices don’t you Jen?” 

“Yes, sir.” I fought the urge to hang up. 

“You get any new text messages lately?” 

I closed my laptop. “Updates, coworkers, nothing more. I am focused on this project and this project alone.”

“Good. Talk to you soon. Hopefully in person.” 

The line went dead, and I threw my phone across the room. It landed on the couch.

Dahlia’s mom didn’t cooperate. I suppose I shouldn’t have expected her too. I didn’t need to see it first hand, but the audio recording of our CPS entering her home and picking out every possible problem was still there for me to go over. I didn’t need to hear it, either. I already knew what the answer would be, and I didn’t want to subject myself to what was on that recording. Breaking apart a family was something I knew I’d have to do eventually, but the crying in Ms. Benn’s voice was so off-putting all the same. She took the CPS actors through everything. Answered the door like there was nothing wrong. Answered their questions like she had a leg to stand on. She tried to act like she held the cards, like she could actually win a battle she couldn’t have known was rigged. She wanted Dahlia. Of course she did. No matter how much of a monster she might see her own daughter was, it was better than being alone. 

One tour of the house later, they sat her down. They talked her through it, I listened to her tears and the blowing on the hundreds of tissues she must have gone through. They told her that this could go away, just like I said they should. There had been more than enough evidence to take Dahlia away, but they’d have to go through the court system to do it. It would take years, maybe, with the way the judicial practices worked. A long drawn out court battle with thousands of dollars being hurled on both sides over a girl that was already mentally challenged and “wrong.” She didn’t have the money to fight for her. She didn’t even have the money to provide for her, they kept saying. Over an over again, they worked the same angle they knew they could catch her in. Maybe she might be able to make it out of jail, but there was no way she’d be able to keep her daughter. All she had to do was sign her over, let them take her, and they’d have the pleasure of paying for everything, not her. She wouldn’t have to worry about it. She could say goodbye to the daughter she kept locked away in her room, and never have to worry about her again. 

She kept asking what they expected her to do with her life. How could she go on without a family? I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and yell at her that there was more to life than that. There was more to life than some kids and a white picket fence and a dog. She could travel. She could sell her house and run far, far away from a small town that probably judged her. She didn’t have to force herself to live this way. But she kept talking. I couldn’t get it out of my head. 

The deal was transparent. So obvious that there was something wrong, that no one in CPS would ever come knocking so quickly or with papers like these in hand. Ms. Benn was a stubborn, terrified, and stupid woman. I could be thankful for her that this went so smoothly. She signed the papers. With nothing more than a whimper, she sold her daughter for a few hundred thousand and the promise that she wouldn’t end up in jail. 

When the audio recording was over, I realized my shirt was damp with tears. I hadn’t known when I started crying, but now it seemed I couldn’t stop. I kept trying to hold the image in my mind of what Dahlia’s mother had done to her through closed doors, of what she had always talked about with me whenever I got her to let her guard down just enough. I wanted to believe that the monster the little girl had depicted in my mind was the real one. I wanted be right. I had to be right. But it kept going back to those sobs on the audio recording. I couldn’t quite grasp the heartbreak in her voice. I couldn’t understand it. But I could feel it in my bones, tearing my heart apart and conquering my mind. I would never feel what she felt. 

Another text from my phone.

I took a break from the computer and tried to sleep. 

I met Dahlia outside Crazy Moose. The tiny diner looked pathetic against the field of dull greens and blues. It was the early morning, and the smell of grease wafted through the air. A tiny breeze picked at the saplings dispersed along the property that was otherwise a wasteland. A large, empty parking lot took up most of the property. The heat wave would make it an oven before the day was done. But this was one of the furthest diners away from her mother’s house. I was told they were worried about her running away.

Her eyes were hooded. She shouldered a backpack filled to the brim with her clothes, and a shopping bag of everything else hung from her hand. In her other arm, Remmy was held loosely. The stuffed cat’s tail dipped near to the ground. When Dahlia saw me at first, she didn’t say anything. She watched me approach from the car, then looked between the two escorts that had brought her here. The men were in regular civilian clothes, but they could never have been mistaken for tourists. Both sets of eyes swivelled toward me like security cameras, then relaxed when they realized who it was. I didn’t recognize them, but that wasn’t anything new. 

“Dahlia.” I smiled at her, and fell to my knees to hug her the moment I reached her. She took a step back before I could touch her. 

“You did all of this, didn’t you?” She asked. I’d never heard her voice so strained before. Confused. 

“I…” I stood slowly back up. “Yes. I did.” 

“It wasn’t because my mom hurt me, was it?” I flinched. 

“No.” 

“She hurt me. But she shouldn’t have lost me. This isn’t right. You did something.” She was smarter than her mother. 

“Dahlia, there are things I’m going to have to explain. But not here.”

“Why?” She glared defiantly up at me. It was strange to see that smooth face twist in anger, after seeing nothing for so long. It didn’t make me feel any better. “What’s going on with my eyes? Why do I see color and why can’t I stay here? I don’t want to be here. Send me back.” 

“Do you want to go inside, maybe?” I asked. “I could get you some pancakes.”

“No. I already ate. Tell me what’s going on.” 

“Then…” I looked between the two bodyguards and sighed. “Do you want to get in the car? We could go for a drive.” 

“Why makes you think I’d agree to go with a stranger in a car?” 

“We’re not strangers, Dahlia.” 

“That’s what strangers say.” 

She was alone. Standing in the middle of the diner’s parking lot, staring back at me in the only defiance she had, I realized she was alone. Her knees were shaking. Her eyes weren’t red from crying, but there was a hollow look in them. She was lost. Achingly lost. So many would have seen her and seen nothing. She never smiled, she never cried, she never looked anything less than deadpan. But I could see it. I wish I couldn’t, but I could.

“Please.” I murmured, and reached out to try to hold her hand. “I know you’re scared. I promise you, that I want you to feel safe. I don’t want you to feel like you’re all alone out here, okay?” 

She stared at my outstretched hand, narrowed her eyes, then started walking without so much as touching it. She glided past me, and when I turned, she called back to me without looking my way. The car door opened, and she threw her backpack and bag inside. Her eyes were downcast.

“Let’s go, then.” She said. “I don’t like those men.”

We pulled out of the lot with the soft sound of classical music drifting through the speakers of my rented vehicle. My own suitcases hadn’t left the car since the day I’d driven in, still packed firmly in the back like a Jenga puzzle. She noticed when she turned around to look at the back seat, but she said nothing. Instead, she turned back around and looked out towards the encroaching forest that we were fast approaching. With the last building behind us, the small town was gone. Dahlia’s home was gone. Guilt came off of me in waves. I didn’t doubt she could feel it.

“Why did you do this to us,” Dahlia muttered, nearly half an hour after we’d left her home town.

“I’m sorry.” It sounded fake, even to me. 

“The color wasn’t important enough for that,” she insisted. “I’m not a psychopath, but that could have been my imagination. I don’t believe in it. It’s annoying, and you should ignore it. I do. That’s what I’ve always done.”

All the times I thought I’d be ready to tell her the truth, and at the last moment, I was tongue tied. 

“I hurt your mother, and you. And I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make that right.” 

“She hated me. She’s happy I’m gone. And now she can have all that money for herself. I’m the only one affected, she couldn’t care less.” 

“But she was crying when it happened.” 

Dahlia went silent. Her eyes were glued to the window. I didn’t blame her. 

“She wanted me to be Charlie.” She couldn’t leave it alone. Her voice was quiet, but audible amongst the soft violins. “She’s only upset because she feels like she lost Charlie again.”

“She cried for you, not Charlie.”

“You’re not helping your argument,” she muttered. “Do you want me to feel upset for my mom that I had to leave?”

“I know I’m not, I’m sorry,” I sighed. “I just… This is terrible. All of this is terrible. I didn’t want it to end up so bad, like this. I probably ruined your mom’s life and I hate that. I never wanted to break you apart.”

“Do you want me to tell you you don’t have to feel guilty?” 

“No.” I bit my lip, and turned up the sound of Vivaldi. “I just… I want you to know that I know what I did was wrong.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“I don’t think that’s true.” 

“You and no one else.” 

“You might not feel things the same way that others do, Dahlia, but that doesn’t make you inhuman.” I sighed, and slouched in the driver’s seat. “I…” I bit my tongue. I had no idea what to say. There was nothing to say. 

“So how did you do it?” She looked back at me. 

“That’s a big question, Dahlia.” 

“How big?” 

“I don’t know.” I looked ahead at the forest. A deer bounded into the street four hundred feet out, then ran back when it spotted the car. “Big. Bigger than even I know. It goes deeper than anything, and I try not to think about the things I don’t know.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“I don’t either, half the time.” I tried to harden my jaw. But I kept finding my hands shaking. She wasn’t going to believe me. There was no proof. “There’s… an organization out there. They like to do work, on… Things people don’t believe in.” 

“Like what?” 

“Mermaids… Vampires… Werewolves.” 

“Stop it.” 

“Maybe we should talk about this later,” I said quickly. “It’s not something I can prove. You’re going to think I’m insane.” 

“I already think you’re insane.” 

I smiled nervously into the steering wheel. “I don’t really blame you. I sometimes think I lost it long ago.” 

She went quiet again. The grip on her stuffed cat was iron, held in her lap and being stroked over occasionally by cold steady hands as though it were a real animal. She looked outside like she was half tempted to climb out and join the cluster of robins on the side of the road. I tried to resist slamming my head against the steering wheel. This was a terrible idea. Who was I kidding. I had never done something this awful before. But now that I had, it had broken through something. I could never get back from it. 

She whispered something. I turned down the music and blinked over at her. “What?” 

“Am I one of those things?” 

“What?” 

“A monster.” 

“No, Dahlia. You’re not- You’re not a monster. But… You’re special.” 

“Horseshit.” 

“Dahlia!” 

“My mom is gone. I can swear.” 

“Okay. Fine. But you’re not a monster,” I said firmly. 

“Then you wouldn’t be here.” 

“Dahlia, it’s not just monsters. It’s everything.” 

“How am I supposed to believe that?” She turned away again. She held Remmy against her stomach and pet his drooping head, and that was the end of that conversation. I gulped, and focused on the road. It twined between hills and cliffsides towards the small town of Bangor. I could already see it in the distance. The trees began to decline, replaced with billboards and dusty looking homes, and the magic of the forest was left behind. I’d miss it. Dahlia’s eyes grazed over the rows of houses in the distance that turned into larger and larger buildings as time wore on. 

“This place is big,” she muttered. 

“Is it?” I smiled tentatively. “I’m from Manhattan. This place is kind of tiny to me.” 

“It’s way bigger than Lincoln.”

“Well, Lincoln’s like a village, isn’t it?”

“I’ve never left Lincoln.” 

“Oh…” I bit my lip.” This might be a bit of a culture shock for you, then.” 

She turned her cold gaze up to me. The hollow look had returned. 

“Where exactly are we going?” she asked. 

“… Manhattan,” I dragged out reluctantly. “There’s a building there, reserved for you. It’s been built over the last several months, and now it’s ready. We’re going to need to get on a plane, and then once we land, there should be a car waiting for us. Then we’ll head there, get you settled in, and I was thinking a tour of the facilities might be a good idea-”

“A whole building.” 

“What?”

“A whole building, reserved for me?” 

I bit my tongue again. 

“What kind of monster am I?” She asked. This time she sounded curious. Her eyes flicked over my shaking hands, turned to me face and examined me. Perhaps looking for weakness. A sign that she was right. I hardened my eyes, and focused on the road.

“You’re not a monster, Dahlia. No matter how many times you keep saying that, you’re not a monster.” I followed the signs through the small town towards the airport. The place was filled with children on summer vacation following the roads to the Penobscot River. Laughter filled the streets, along with complaints about the hot summer day. People were heading in droves to the ice cream shops dotting the more touristy looking districts. The traffic was slow in some areas, even for a small town. I carefully navigated the route, nearly missed a turn, but managed it at the last second with some careful maneuvering. I was fine, as long as my hands would stop shaking. 

“What not-monster has an entire building reserved for them?” 

“You’re not a monster, you’re a special person with abilities that none of us fully understand. And we’re afraid of what could happen, so we had to separate you. But I don’t want you to be afraid, because I want to think that I know that you wouldn’t do that. The others are afraid, Dahlia, but I’m not. Do you understand?” I looked over to see her eyes staring at me unblinkingly. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say? You’re not a monster. You’re different than anything we’ve ever come across. And that makes people scared.” 

“How do you expect me to believe you?” 

“I don’t. You don’t stop asking questions, so I’m answering them. I want to be truthful.” I sighed. “God, I want to be truthful. I’ve wanted to tell you from the very beginning. I didn’t want to lie. I hate lying. Especially to you.” 

“But you’ve been lying this whole time. You lied to make me lose my mother. You lied to get me here. You never told me where we were going, and those men didn’t tell me anything either. What’s going to happen to me, Genevieve?” 

“My… My name’s Jennifer.” 

Dahlia went silent.

“Dahlia?” I asked. I glanced over to her, but her eyes were hooded. She was drifting further and further apart. My throat tightened up when I realized there was nothing I could do.

We left the main part of the town, following a winding road towards the airport. The highway was filled with beautiful golden grass dried in the oppressive sun, but she watched them pass by with the same blank expression. A plane was landing overhead, and she watched it move sluggishly across the sky until it disappeared out of her vision. 

Arrival went relatively smoothly. I was surprised how many coworkers milled around waiting for us, but the extra hands were helpful. Dahlia refused to let anyone touch her things. When one man tried to carry Remmy for her and another went for her bag, she almost turned to run. They were backing her into a corner and I could see the shock in her eyes. I grabbed her before she could book it, told the others to stand down, and knelt to calm her down. She looked at me and seemed to weigh her options in her mind. She kept looking do the door. I wondered if she thought of screaming. I held onto her, offering the same hollow words of encouragement and hoped desperately that she could see through it. 

It was a fluke that she decided to keep going, but I took it. Even if she wouldn’t let me hold her hand, it was better than nothing. Even if every angry, hollow and frightened look was another dash to my heart, I took it. It was only what I deserved. 

Before both of us knew it, we were sitting beside each other parcelled on a plane and listening to the sound of the engines beginning to take off. I could see her shaking again, and I almost grabbed her hand. But then I stopped. She refused to look at me, with a jaw so firmly clenched that it must have hurt. 

“Dahlia,” I murmured as soothingly as I could.

“What?” 

“Can I hold your hand?” 

“I don’t know Jennifer, can you?” 

I deserved that, too. “I wanted to tell you.” 

“You keep saying that. But you didn’t.” 

“I was afraid, Dahlia. Like you are now. I was afraid of the idea of coming here and having everything be for nothing. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to make you feel alone. And right now, I want to do everything I can to make sure we stay together.” I pressed closer, and was grateful when she didn’t pull away. “When we land, they’re going to want us to be apart. They’re going to want to put you in with another psychologist, and have me in charge of the entire project.” She blinked at me. I took her hand, and she didn’t pull away. “I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to lose you, or make you feel alone. I want to show you that you mean more to me than just a piece of work. You’re just a kid, and I…” I bit my lip. “Someone told me that you were going to need someone like me when the time came. You’re special. Not just for what you are.” Words were running in my head. About how much of a hypocrite I must be. How much of a loser. I spent so much time telling her how I never wanted kids, I never wanted a life, I never wanted anything more than her to give me my space. And now I was holding a child’s hand, holding back tears, and begging her to let her trust me. I didn’t deserve it, either.

She looked numbly at my hand, then at me. “When you meant your life’s work-”

“I meant you, Dahlia. Sweetie. I meant you. But it’s more than that now. Can you trust me?”

“You’re a stranger,” she muttered. 

“My name is Jennifer Miller,” I said as the plane began to take off. “I’ve lived in Manhattan my whole life. I met my first girlfriend and ex wife in high school when I was seventeen. I went to Columbia University, where I got my doctorate in philosophy. My favorite color is green. I’m a Libra. When the Company picked me up, I was already working on trying to find you. I always thought that someone like you would exist, but I never imagined I’d be proven right…” 

The entire plane ride home, we talked. I told her everything I could. I hoped it would be enough. She stared back at me with that same blank expression on her face, offered her own stories, but she stayed mostly silent. 

At least she was listening.


	11. Chapter 11

Dahlia 

Four walls. Four walls of a small room light by harsh white light meant to simulate the sun. I could turn them off, but then a softer, darker light would come on. I could never be in total darkness. It took a while for my eyes to adjust. I wondered what it would be like in total darkness after a month of light. Probably unbearable. 

Four walls, each bordering the same room that held a bookshelf, a bed, a desk, a closet, and a chair. The bed was big enough for me, but too small for an adult. The sheets were bland. Dark blue, nothing else on them. The bookshelf was filled with adventure stories of travel to distant lands. The covers had pictures that were so colorful they were in competition with the harsh lights for destroying my eyes. The desk was brown. Simple wood. Nothing to it. Some paper in the corner, some pens in the other. I didn’t know what they thought I could accomplish. I couldn’t write very well. I cared about it even less. 

The closet was filled with clothes I hadn’t brought with me, though they were mine. I thought I’d left them at my house. No, I was certain that I had. I knew that I’d only gotten the basic necessities after being told that I had to leave my home forever. I knew that I hadn’t brought the red shirt, the khakis, the one dress that my mother had tried to fit me in ages ago. I knew that I hadn’t even touched the purple sweater that had been hiding in the back of my dresser. But now it was hung up. They took the wrinkles out of it, too. 

The chair swiveled around. I sat down on it and let it spin me around the world. The dark green wallpaper meant to simulate a cartoonish forest whirled and whirled around me until it was little more than a black, blue and green mess of nothing comprehensible. I whirled around faster. I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to see any of it. 

When I finally got off the chair, I felt like I was going to throw up. But I held it down and I looked between the two doors in the room. Only one led to anywhere. The one to the outside world was locked. Tightly shut. I couldn’t open it if I tried. My fingers would never be able to pull apart at that metal they used to hold me in here. 

The other door was made of wood. I already knew where it led to. A simple, boring bathroom with a toilet, bath, and sink. The bath doubled as a shower. I hadn’t showered since I got here. 

I sat in the center of the room with Remmy in my arms, and stared at the one security camera that didn’t even try to hide. It was there in the corner of the room. Trained on me and me alone. It swivelled. Maybe it moved at the sign of movement. I moved to the other side of the room, and it followed. I tried to hide underneath it, and it drew itself straight down to watch me. I narrowed my eyes, and tried to reach it. The ceiling was tall. I would never be able to with the swivel chair. Even if the desk wasn’t bolted to the floor, I wouldn’t be able to reach it that way. 

The room was utterly silent, until I heard the slight hum. It was only there when I listened hard enough. The security camera had the faintest constant noise. When I moved and it followed me, it made a slightly louder mechanical noise. That was it. All the noises I could hear. Nothing more than the faintest whir, and a mechanical change of position. I had tried sleeping with that stupid thing following me around, but the light, the sound, everything, it kept my eyes firmly awake and staring at the ceiling. I’d never be able to sleep without knowing the days. 

I went into the bathroom and turned on all the taps. There was toilet paper in the bottom of the sink, so I tore it to pieces in the bath. Every last square was soaked into a papery, mushy mess that I picked up, and threw against the mirror. It landed with a satisfying squelch, and slowly dripped down. The security camera in this room couldn’t decide whether to follow my hand, the toilet paper, or me. 

I left the bathroom and tore everything out of my backpack. The toothbrush, the toothpaste, the floss, I squirted all of it around the room. The clothes I left in a pile around it, all of the things I’d brought. As messy as it got, I still needed them. They couldn’t touch the toothpaste. But the clothes in the wardrobe, I threw those everywhere. The sweater could smush in the toothpaste for all I cared. I threw the dress in there too, stamped on it for good measure. Pacing around the room, I grabbed the nearest piece of furniture that wasn’t bolted down. The chair was the only piece. Good enough. I rammed it into the metal door, expecting nothing to come of it. The fabric of the back of the chair muffled the metal clang into little more than a small puff. Unsatisfying. So I left it on the ground upside down, the wheels still turning uselessly. The papers came off the desk, and some of them joined the toilet paper in the bathroom to add to the mush. The pens were shattered into ink staining the carpeted flooring. They were plastic, but not cheap. It was hard to break them apart, and even harder to make the ink drip out. 

The blankets on my bed were stained black by the end of it. 

I surveyed the mess, breathing faster and fists clenched as I looked for what else I could do. I turned around and around. In my chest, the pumping of my heart grew stronger and stronger until I could hear it. The faintest flash sparks littered my vision until I saw Remmy on the bed. His button eyes looked back sightlessly at me. Questioning me. 

I pulled him into my arms, and sat down on the one part of the bed that hadn’t been stained by ink. And I waited. 

I didn’t have to wait long. 

“Dahlia!” The voice was quickly joined by the philosopher when she opened the door and looked in shock at what I’d done. 

“I don’t like this room,” I said.

“You… You didn’t have to do that, if you wanted my attention. I was going to come to you in another hour to see if you wanted to talk.” The philosopher moved tentatively closer to me, but she gave me a wide berth. I glared her down. Dared her to come closer. She wouldn’t take it. She didn’t have the backbone. 

“I don’t want your attention,” I said. “I already sent you away before. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t care. I just don’t like this room. I want to leave.” 

“I’m willing to listen if you want to talk, Dahlia. If you don’t want to listen to me, I’d still listen to you. Maybe I could get someone to fix the room for you the way you like it. I tried calling ahead but it might not have been the way you wanted it-”

“I don’t want that.” I continued to glare at her. She wasn’t listening, and it was on purpose. Before, she had withered under my look. For the last couple days, every time she came into my room, all I did was glare her down. And then she’d slink away and go back to wherever she was hiding. Maybe she went back to the security room that we had passed on the way into this overly bright dingy room, so she could keep watching me. She came with every meal. With every question I yelled into the camera. Like she was waiting for me to want her, running into the room so I could yell at her to leave. Like she thought I would ever want her. Maybe she wanted to look at me, like I could go anywhere. She always held her tongue, kept quiet when I glared, yelled, and refused to listen. She didn’t deserve to be listened to, and she knew it. 

So why wasn’t she withering now? 

“Well, what do you want?” She asked me. She crossed her arms against the open door, and watched me right back. There was a faint twitch in her eye. She must have been bluffing. I bet she was just as scared as everyone else had looked when I’d been escorted into the room. It wasn’t any different than Lincoln. It was the same faces watching me with wary and fearful expressions, looking for any possible chance that I’ll do something wrong. They don’t bother to listen to the things that I have to say. They take one look at me and they think there’s something wrong. There wasn’t. They’re just stupid. The scientists in their lab coats running away at the first opportunity to let me walk before them were just as bad as the kids from school. 

“Pizza.” I kept my eyes level with her. “Chicken wings. Ice cream. I want the beach. I want to swim.” 

The philosopher sighed. “Dahlia, I… I can get you some food, if that’s what you want. But you can’t leave the facility. You know that. I told you on the plane, remember? And again, after.” 

“I listened,” I said. “But I don’t care. I want to leave.” 

“You can’t leave.” 

“If I’m special then I can leave!” 

“Dahlia!” The philosopher was taken aback. She looked as though she were at a loss for words. “I… I know I did something bad.” Now she was folding.

“I don’t care.” 

“I know nothing I say will make it up to you.” 

“Go away if you’re not going to change the room.” 

“I’m still Jen, Dahlia.” The philosopher closed the door behind her as she walked with tentative steps towards me. She crouched near the bed to look up at me.

“You’re some philosopher. You’re not Genevieve.” I looked down at her. Her face was stupid. She was close enough that I could kick her if I wanted to. “Genevieve was a fake person you made up so you could make me leave my house and go somewhere I don’t want to be. I was talking to a fake person the whole time.”

“Do you remember when I brought ice cream to one of our meetings?” She asked, like she was ignoring me. “And I got your favorite flavor, because you just happened to talk about it in the last session? You said your mother wouldn’t buy you strawberry cheesecake anymore, so I got it for you. And I had maple walnut, and we got to eat it together with the window open on a hot day.” 

“You were lying that whole time,” I said casually. I didn’t need to look at her face anymore. I already knew what it looked like. I would rather stare at Remmy. Remmy was staring back at me with those button eyes. His mouth didn’t move, but his eyes seemed to say something. He was green, before. A strange, colorful green. I remembered it no matter how brief it was. No part of him was green now, though. Just the same black and white. 

“Remember when you told me about Charlie?” She asked. “And how you still carry Remmy around? So many people can’t see that part of you that cares Dahlia. I hate that they can’t. And so many people see you here, and they don’t see how you’re hurting. I… Dahlia, I know you have no reason to trust me. I’m not asking you to. Everything I said to you wasn’t a lie, but I can’t expect you to believe that. I just… Can we start at the very beginning? We don’t have to be friends anymore, if that’s what you want. We don’t have to like each other. I’d miss you, but…” She paused, and I noticed her wiping her eyes as she struggled to get a hold of herself. She cried too much. Just like Charlie. Charlie, but an adult that should never have made it to being an adult.

“I don’t want to listen to you.” I turned around on the bed, and faced the wall. “You’re not my mother. Everyone here is keeping me trapped, and you’re not any different. I don’t want to know anything about my powers. You took everything away from me.”

“I had to.” 

“No you didn’t.” 

“Dahlia, there are people out there bigger than both of us. Bigger than anything! I want to say no to them sometimes. Sometimes I feel like I want to strangle the life out of them for the things they say. All they do… They don’t listen. They never listen. They have the worst plans, they don’t recognize how people work, what they can do to create an outcome that isn’t strained but- But in the end… Dahlia, I think I might be just as trapped as you are.” 

I scowled into my knees. Everything she said was a lie. She was a liar. Adults were liars and hated me. They called me a psychopath. She thinks the same. Of course she does. She was the one that pushed me to this. She made me think things. 

“You chose work over your wife, didn’t you?” 

“… Dahlia.” 

“Didn’t you?” 

“I… Yes.”

“Then you weren’t trapped. You had a choice.” 

“I… I did. You’re right.”

“Of course I am. All of what you’ve been doing is wrong.” I pointed to the security camera. “I hate those.” 

“I’m sorry. Are they too loud?” 

I faltered, then dropped my arm. “Yes.” 

“I could try to find quieter ones.” 

I wrinkled my nose. “No. I don’t want quieter ones. I don’t want to be here at all. I want out of this room. I want out of here, completely.” 

“I know,” the philosopher sighed. “I know, Dahlia. I hear you. You’ve shown it… A lot over the last couple days. I’m sorry. But… What if I could do something for you?” 

“No. Go away. Make them bring pizza for lunch. I don’t want anything else.” 

“I’ll leave. But I wanted to ask you something before I go.” 

“I don’t want to listen to it.” I heard her stand up, but I kept my eyes trained on the fake forest wall. 

“This facility is massive. There’s underground tunnels linking it to the rest of the Company’s buildings. And it’s quite the travel. If you want out so badly, then… I… I could ask for clearance. I could show you things. And maybe we could… Talk. About you. About your powers, if you wanted. I know we haven’t been able to discuss much, but I’d be willing to answer anything you want to know. I know promising to tell the truth doesn’t mean much anymore…” The sound of the door opening was coupled by her reluctant steps. “But I promise you, I’d tell you what you wanted to know. I don’t have anything left to hurt you with. Even if I did, I…” She paused. “Dahlia, you’re not a specimen to me. I don’t like it when you’re in pain. It makes me want to do everything I can to help take it away.” 

“Go away,” I muttered. 

“Dahlia, I-”

“Go. Away.” Just like Charlie. She didn’t listen. She never listened. I hated her. 

“I’ll send maintenance to clean this up,” she said quickly, and locked the door behind her. 

Locked in again. 

My stomach kept turning and Remmy was the only thing that kept me from trying to pull apart my bed too. He kept looking at me funny. Maybe he was green, if I squinted just a tiny bit. 

They brought pizza for lunch. I didn’t eat it. I wasn’t hungry. I sent it away, waited for minutes, then threw a pen at the camera and demanded ice cream. 

It didn’t come. 

The cleaning team came into the room and fixed everything back to the way they wanted it to be. They didn’t say a word to me. Not that I cared. I was sitting facing the wall the entire time. My bed was the only island I needed. Whatever they did was of no concern to me. I could easily break everything after they had left.

As the last one closed the door, I spit onto the floor. 

I paced around the room. Punched at the wall. That was a bad idea. It was too hard. I nursed my bruised knuckles and glared at the unblinking security camera that refused to stop. I glared at it. It stared back. It could have been anyone behind those cameras. It could have been the philosopher. It could have been a scientist. It could have been one of those supposed “bigger” people that she kept talking about. They were all assholes. All of them. I pulled the blanket over my head so it would stop watching me. Inside, I suffocated under the heat and listened to the slow beat of my heart begin to grow again. It was too loud. Everything was too loud. I’d never been somewhere so quiet, and so deafening at the same time. 

If I was so special, then why couldn’t I blow everything up? 

“Dahlia?” A voice said meekly, coupled with the sound of the door opening. Another day later, and the sound of the philosopher’s voice hadn’t changed much. Maybe it was tired. Maybe a little wavering. But still just as grating as the last time I’d heard it. It had been a while. I’d been waiting for her. I was expecting her to show up a few hours after I told her to leave. She hadn’t. I didn’t want to degrade myself enough to ask the person serving dinner where she was. I’d already shown that I didn’t want to talk to them when I smeared garlic sauce all over the bathroom mirror. They didn’t deserve to think I cared. The philosopher was a weak, child of an adult, and she should be suffering. Maybe she was. Maybe the day had been spent of her licking her wounds and wishing she had never taken me away from my life. 

The time was whittled away with breaking things, but I’d missed telling her never to return. 

“Go away,” I muttered from under the blankets.

“Do you want to leave?” 

“I don’t care anymore.” But the way she said it made me pause. “Why?” 

“I got clearance. For us to go on a tour, if you wanted.” 

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll escape?” I glowered at my crossed legs. 

“No. Because I don’t want you to be a prisoner. I want you to be able to see what they’re doing here. Not be in the dark. And maybe, after, we could get clearance to leave completely. Go to the city. Do you want to go shopping, Dahlia? We could go through Manhattan. There’s a few places you might like. Or we could find a park. Somewhere quiet. It’s never really quiet up there, but…” 

“Stop it.”

“I don’t want to stop it, Dahlia.”

“Stop doing this.” 

“I refuse to be your enemy.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because out of everything I said to you before, the only thing I lied about was my name and your powers. Powers we aren’t even sure about ourselves.” 

“Go away.” 

“Do you want to leave?”

“Yes.” 

“You’re welcome to. Right now. The door is open.” 

“Not with you.” 

She went quiet for a moment, then sighed. “Would it help if I told you that the security cameras weren’t being manned?” 

I tugged off the blankets, and turned to see her leaning against the doorway. “Why not?”

“I’ve been the only one looking after you. I kept it that way.”

“But that’s stupid.” 

She shrugged. “I have to show you, somehow, that I mean what I say. And I don’t know what else to do. You’re not letting me in, so… I’m giving you an out.” She smiled meekly. “Those passes are only valid today.” 

I looked between her and the door, then tried to make out the blinding hallway behind her. It was even worse than the light in this room, and considerably louder. There was no telling just how large this building was. I hadn’t seen any maps when we’d got in. 

But it meant listening to the philosopher. 

I glared at her, picked up Remmy, and walked passed her without a word. 

I was right, the hallway was blinding. Lights ran along the ceiling all the way to the door on the far end that led into the chamber that we had passed briefly before she’d shoved me in here. It had been empty the last time I’d seen it. But I supposed it was meant to be a storage facility simply left unused. 

“You mean it?” The philosopher brightened. “You want to come?”

“It would give me a chance to scope out ways to escape.” I didn’t look at her. Remmy was looking somewhat worse for wear today. I wished I could do some laundry with him. If there was one thing I despised, it was stains on Remmy.

“I suppose that’s good enough,” she sighed beside me. “Here.” She held out a badge with my face and name attached to a lanyard. The placard looked very official, and too big for me to bother carrying around. I stared at it, then looked back to her. 

“No.” 

“Please? It’s protocol.” 

“No.” I started walking. She quickly caught up with me, but that stupid lanyard was still in her hand. 

“If you don’t wear it then it’s possible you’ll be apprehended,” she tried to argue. “The only reason I got the chance to have you out of here is because of these.” 

“You’re with me. They won’t touch me.” 

“Well, yes, but – if you get separated.” 

“What’s the use of being special in this stupid place if people don’t already know who I am?” I looked up at her incredulously. “I’m supposed to be some kind of big thing. I’m the most important. So let me do what I want already. People should know to let me go.” 

“I… Not everyone does. We’re going beyond the range of the facility that holds you, towards the older holding cells. And it doesn’t matter if you have powers, people here aren’t always going to treat you like you’re special. It doesn’t work that way.” 

“Then it’s stupid. Whatever. I don’t care. I’m not wearing it.” 

“Can you at least keep it with you?” 

“No.” 

“Dahlia.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Then at least promise to stay with me,” she sighed. “At least just stay close so you don’t get hurt, alright?”

“No,” I muttered. “Stop asking. I’m not about to follow you just because you want me to.” But we still ended up walking the same way. I still ended up beside her, stroking over Remmy’s ears and trying to avoid eye contact with her as much as I could. Every time I saw her, she’d have some stupid sniveling face on, and I was already sick of people that were sad all the time for no reason. At least she’d shut up. As long as I was nearby, she didn’t say anything. 

The underground tram was past the unused storage facility, the winding hallways, and the elevator that I’d only ever used once. The vehicle of chrome, dark metal and comfortable cushions had enough room for at least twenty people, but it was only me, the philosopher, and a very old looking man in a blue jumpsuit that rode it. The machine itself reminded me of a train, but it didn’t have a top to it and it was only one car. That same blinding whiteness that the walls had was copied over to the tram, and I was starting to wonder who’s idea it was to make such a terrible looking theme. 

As soon as the doors closed us in, the vehicle took off. It had the same blinding light inside the long and unending tunnel the machine followed as it did in the hallways. Closing my eyes, I could still see the sparkling doctor’s lights dancing on my vision as the vehicle began to pick up speed until there was wind running through my hair and my ears were chilled. The tunnel began to shriek as the wind was pushed by the machine. It was achingly loud. But it was a noise I hadn’t heard in so long, that my ears didn’t hurt in the slightest. It was a change from the silence other than the faint, annoying hum of a camera that apparently had only been watched by the stupid philosopher. But now I was free. Freer than I had been. I was breathless, holding onto Remmy as tightly as I could as the buffeting of the wind felt like it would take me away as well. I imagined what it would be like to fall from this train at this speed. Perhaps I would die. Perhaps it would be a way to escape. I analyzed the tracks, how close they were to the walls, just how fast they were going, and realized that it would have been foolish to try without killing myself in the process. I was decidedly against dying, no matter how much I hated it here. If I died, I bet the philosopher would find some reason to try dissecting me and see what super power made me tick. 

So I couldn’t find it within me to jump when I felt like I was flying. The air pushing between my ears buffeted me. The wind tunnel was exhilarating, and I felt like if I tried to open my arms up I really would be lifted off the ground. I kept my eyes closed, and wondered if this is what going on a roller-coaster must feel like. 

I could feel it draw to a close a few minutes later, and reluctantly opened my eyes. It looked as though we were in the same station as before. There was no identifier for where this was. No signs to name the station. The same blinding lights flickered, the same tunnel continued on in the same direction. But when I turned around, the tunnel also seemed to continue on the other way, impossibly far. 

“Dahlia,” The philosopher startled me with her quiet voice. If she’d spoken to me before, I wouldn’t have heard her. But the quiet was now only punctuated by her motioning for us to get off, and the small group of researchers that began to flood through the doors that lead to the platform. They got on with minimal chatter about things I didn’t even try to understand and all of them seemed to ignore us. They didn’t know who we were. I guess the philosopher was right. It made me sick just thinking that. 

I stepped off several moments after the philosopher had told me too, but instead of meeting up with her impatient waiting, I just breezed past.

“Dahlia,” she called back to me. “Wait, you could get lost!” So what if I did. I kept walking, past the people in white lab coats and the maintenance workers carrying tool boxes that looked far too shiny for their job. The small station that foot traffic flowed into was suddenly multiplied when I stepped into the main bright hallway. People were everywhere. Roaming the halls, talking to one another, holding cups of coffee, running to whatever meeting they were late to. In an instant I had been transported into a crowd. 

Surprised, I ducked out of the way to avoid the rushing traffic of so many different kinds of liars. There were adults younger than the philosopher, and some so old it was a wonder they were still walking. People chatted, laughed with each other. Some held onto mugs of coffee a little too tightly. One carried a gurney that the others made room for, but only just. Wicked looking machinery was half covered by a towel on that silvery table. I clutched Remmy a little tighter. 

“Alright,” I heard. “Stay close. I mean it this time.” I flinched at the hand grabbing my shoulder and twisted away with a hiss. 

“What are you doing?” I demanded at the philosopher. “Don’t touch me.”

“I just- Sorry.” She ducked her head. 

“Don’t say you’re sorry. Just don’t do it. Sorry is meaningless.” 

“I know, I know. I just need you here. You could seriously get lost. This place is enormous and there’s no maps to judge the location, understand?” 

“Why not?” 

“It makes it harder to storm the building. Most people here just know what they need to know to get where they need to go, and that’s it. Even I don’t know everything here. I’m not sure that I want to.” I glowered up at her, then pulled Remmy closer to my chest.

“That’s stupid.” 

“Maybe. But it also keeps people safe. If we don’t get into something we shouldn’t be touching, then we’re less likely to get hurt. Or into trouble. Or fired. There’s a lot of touchy stuff here. Which means Dahlia, that you need to stay with me. There are things here that could seriously hurt you.” 

“Hurt me?” I tightened my mouth. “I don’t think you care about that.” 

“I do, Dahlia.” She sighed. She sounded tired. Maybe she was beginning to realize that it was useless using the same lie on me over and over again. Not when I wasn’t falling for it anymore. So she changed the subject and waved around the hallway for good measure. She got a few strange looks, but the river of people mostly ignored her as long as she stayed out of their way. “So um… This is the main facility. One of the main hallways, actually. We’re on one of the more common floors, but there’s still a lot of Supernaturals stationed here in each of the holding cells.” She pointed to the hallways that branched off every fifty feet or so. “I know where most of these go. There’s a lot of variety of different scientists working with different specimens.” 

“Specimens.” She flinched when she realized what she’d said.

“Not like you. I promise. They’re like… Animals. Anything with sentience, we treat with respect deserving of sentience. We still need to treat them as specimens, but we’re not here to…” She paused, and a pained expression crossed her face. “Never mind. Do you have a preference? Is there anything you want to see?”

“I’m just here to find escape routes.” 

“Dahlia.” She brushed a hand through her lanky hair, and sighed again. “What about vampires. Do you like vampires?”

“I don’t care.” 

“Vampires it is, then.” She started walking. I waited for a solid second trying to decide whether to escape back on the tram or to try and hide with the crowd. But when she started to disappear, and I could only see the slight flash of her lime green blouse in the crowd, I swore under my breath and ran to catch up to her.


	12. Chapter 12

Jennifer 

This probably wasn’t the place. I was expecting something more… techy, to say the least. A simple Starbucks in the middle of a busy road in Manhattan, bordered by sushi restaurants and a misplaced McDonalds? No, it should have been some kind of smoky establishment that also served bubble tea and offered high speed internet. Maybe in the back alley of an isolated forgotten silicon valley start-up, left to rot with only the skeleton crew left. They’d serve overpriced toast, iced coffee, and nothing hot, and we’d be bothered if we didn’t get another drink every hour or so. He’d feel right at home and I’d be waiting patiently for it all to be over. I’d have to wait impatiently for a chair to open up before I could even grab one and bring it around to the dinky table he’d be using. 

I didn’t expect the Starbucks. I didn’t expect to be standing on the other side of the busy street taking in the bright and shining image of capitalism staring me in the face in the middle of the day and offering me my daily dose of caffeine with the shiny bright and youthful eyes of their logo. I didn’t expect that when I opened the door, the place would be relatively busy with students from the nearby university chatting and writing papers in corners with pure concentration and coffee stains on their faces. A girl holding a dyed purple drink of some flavor that didn’t actually exist and was mostly made of sugar. A man ordering an overpriced bagel from the cash register and insisting that he didn’t care what they spelled on his coffee cup as long as they just made him his damn coffee. I didn’t expect Damien to be sitting in the middle booth, out in the open, sipping on a black coffee and writing on a beaten-up laptop with a focused expression. The scone beside him was blueberry. 

He didn’t belong in a Starbucks. 

“Here?” I asked when I placed my backpack down and slid into the booth on the other side. “Really?”

He simply said, “It’s close by,” and continued to flick away on his laptop. I rocked my fingernails against the counter of the table and listened to the sound of chatter that was starting to drive me insane. There were only so many times I could hear the word “like” come out of a girl’s mouth before I wished I didn’t have ears to hear her with. 

I’d already done my time in a Starbucks. I’d spent far too much time and money selling myself to this damned establishment with nothing but a half-assed thesis and a caffeine addiction to show for it. Not to mention an empty wallet. Maybe I was just unlucky. Maybe I should have tried those mom and pop shops down the street that Damien should have been at right now. Then, maybe I would have been a little more productive, and a little less bitter. Like the coffee they’d probably serve me. 

“You look tense,” he commented without looking away from his computer. “I’d say get a coffee, but maybe you’d be better off with tea.” 

“I fucked up.” 

“No surprise there.” He took a sip of his coffee and without missing a beat, returned to his computer. “I heard how it went down. A lot of people were talking when they first heard that you’d gotten her away from her mother. Then you showed up with her, dumped her in solitary, and then left to… Sulk? I thought we’d spent at least another month of waiting while you continued to slowly break the news to her. I thought you were going to be tactful.” 

I gritted my teeth. “My fault. I know. She’s not even talking to me. Won’t look at me. Every time I try to say something, it’s just more and more yelling. She never used to yell.” A wave of exhaustion hit me, but coffee wasn’t going to solve it. I paused to scope the room around us. “Is… Is it safe to talk like this?” 

“It’s fine.” He still wasn’t looking up. “We’re method actors practicing our lines for a play. No one’s going to even look our way. University students are like that. They see something strange, they think it’s meant to be there. And they keep doing what they’re doing because they have something even weirder at home. I doubt the Company would listen in either.” Finally, he closed the laptop and looked me in the eye. That monotone voice was matched by a strange expression I couldn’t place.

“Is this the part where you say you’re not mad, you’re just disappointed?” I tried to joke. 

“You took a little girl, and threw her out of any semblance of normalcy, and now you’re here instead of trying to solve your problems. What do you think I might be feeling right now, Jennifer?”

“I… I don’t…” 

“No, I guess you don’t. You wouldn’t know, because you didn’t bother to think of what that girl wanted. What did you even do out there? Just wait to lull her into a false sense of security? Was all of this just a façade because you wanted to see the object of your obsession?” 

“I think you might be out of line.” 

He paused, then slid back into the booth of his chair and scowled at his computer. “Maybe. I don’t know you.” 

I played with a stray hair, and waited for him to say something. Anything to alleviate this suffocation.

“Did you talk to that friend of yours? Jesse?” 

“No.” 

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me. I… I haven’t been listening to him either. To… To anyone, really. Just my boss. And my boss…” I tied my tongue up. 

“You think he’s listening even now? It’s too loud to hear much. Even if they were, would it matter?” 

“I don’t think this was a good idea. Maybe I should go.” 

“After what happened between you and Dahlia? Do you really think running off and doing whatever you think is a good idea is going to work again?” 

I played with my hands under the table. “Then maybe I should order a coffee,” I murmured.

“Maybe you should.”

In the time it took for me to get a simple latte and go back to where Damien roosted, he had packed his things away and finished his scone. His coffee cup was nearly empty, but he left it a quarter full out of curtesy. I pulled the warm paper cup against me and let it scald my hands. 

“Why did you want me to come here?” I finally said. His demeanor changed, deflated more like. He slid slowly back into the cushion, and uttered a soft, low sigh. His eyes were far away. 

“Because I think something’s wrong.”

“With Dahlia and I? What’s wrong?” I grimaced. “I got everything accomplished. We have the girl. She’s in the facility. Her mother isn’t going to pursue legal action. And we can start testing in the next week.” 

“No, it’s… It’s something else. Yes, that’s wrong, but it’s more than that.” He eyed his coffee, but didn’t take it. “I called you here because I thought I could talk to you about it. Person to person. That you might be able to do something, too. You have empathy, don’t you?” 

“Of course I do.” 

“Do you know what you’re doing with Dahlia?” 

“You don’t think I feel terrible?” The coffee was burning. “I hate what’s happening, Damien. I hate that I can’t do anything to help her. I hate that she won’t listen to me. It wasn’t just the mission in the end, you know.” I sighed. “It wasn’t just me trying to tear her away. Her mother was hurting her. No one understood her. She was alone. How can you not, when you don’t understand emotions like other people do? She is a psychopath, certainly, but… She’s not inhuman.” 

Damien stared at me from across the table unblinkingly. When I tentatively sipped the coffee to break the tension, that’s when he spoke. “So you feel it too, then. You know it’s wrong, what we’re doing.” 

He wasn’t making any sense. Don’t think about it. “What are you talking about.” 

“Do you really think you can be blamed for all that’s taken place? That your boss had nothing to do with the detrimental speed this experiment has been going through? Everything’s been going so fast that safety measures haven’t even been double checked. We won’t even know if there’s some kind of breech of security if someone ever gets into our system, because we don’t have the proper alerts in place yet. Nor are they bothering to check the mental health complications. And yet, there’s a facility housing a little girl and everyone’s clambering at the bit to get to her. No one’s caring about what makes her happy. And when you do, you get pushed to the side. It doesn’t fill a quota. There has to be information about it that I can’t reach. That you could.” 

“They just want things done in a timely manner. There’s a project that I am following, and they have waited so long for the possibility of the program being enacted that they want it done now. After waiting for decades, don’t you think that they might have gotten a little impatient? They have nothing to hide, they just want their work done quickly.” 

“Jennifer. Look at me.” The technician moved closer. His eyes were old, brown, and sad. His face was too young for them, too alive. “It’s not just the gathering of their Editor, is it? It’s everything. I’m talking about everything.” 

“Everything being what, exactly?” I narrowed my eyes. 

“This Company. The organization itself is all like that. It’s how they built everything. On quotas. On a lack of care. We’re not working for the government, so where does the money come from? Why does the money flow so easily? Why do they choose to let us do all these projects with reckless abandon? Where does our work go when we’re finished? I’ve never seen someone with a finished project after the unveiling. And what’s on some of those restricted floors?” He bit his lip. “There’s so much mystery around the people we work for that I can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t anymore. I stay tucked away in my office and do what I can building up my project, but I can’t ignore what’s going on. I didn’t believe it at first. I thought this was really going to be something great, but… I started hearing things, Jennifer. Specimens talking through the walls to each other. Crying in the containment rooms. They’re cells. It’s like… A prison, when you walk through some of them. Something dark, and terrible. And they’re willingly subjecting a little girl to that. Don’t you feel empathy for her?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We keep everything bright in the facilities. It’s meant to make it easier to navigate. Damien, you’re scaring me.” I pushed my coffee away and tried to keep level with his eyes. “You’re hearing things?” 

“They’re real. I’ve checked. If I was just hearing voices I would have left long ago, because I know how crazy that sounds. But there’s creatures down there that are being left to rot, and I’ve met them. Sentient things, down in the dark. I don’t work on the upper levels like you do.” 

“I’ve never even seen a dark room in the Company before, and I definitely have never seen anything like you’ve been describing. Even if they did talk, they’re just projects. That’s just what they’re programmed to do. Not everything makes it to a final stage and the Company isn’t going to just leave a living creature to die in a hole. They wouldn’t do that. That’s not how they work. I’ve met them.” 

“And how did they come off?” 

“No more intimidating than any other boss I might have.” Angrily, I began to twitch in the booth. I kept looking at the exit. “Damien, I understand you have your reservations about the ethics of the Company, but I assure you, we all do what we can to maintain a morally sound institute.”

“You sound like a pamphlet, Jennifer. How many times have you heard that before? How many times have you had to ask?”

I said nothing. 

“Your cognitive dissonance is getting in the way of you seeing reality.” His voice was low. When I looked up, his eyes were firmly on the closed laptop. That strange expression was back. Thoughtful, fearful. Far away. “I came into this organization because of the promise that I could fulfill some crazy half baked dream that I only still believed in because I was skilled enough to be arrogant. They placed me in a set of dorms on the last floor of the facility. The very bottom. Do you know what they store there?” 

“No,” I said nervously. 

“The specimens that are too difficult to deal with on the upper floors. Alive specimens. Breathing, thinking creatures. I only got the place because they had started up this grant project at the time, and they were completely overcrowded up on the regular floors. Too many arrogant kids with their own messed up dreams. So they sweetened the deal by giving me my own apartment and promised I could have a normal dorm once everyone gave up. I could have gone halfway across the world, but I wanted to stay closer to home. Ray would have been mad if I told her I was going overseas.” His face hardened. “A lot of people pulled out in the coming years with their ideas flopping. I could have a floor on the same as everyone else. I chose not to.” 

“Why?”

“Because my project started talking to me.” 

The way he said it sent a chill down my spine. “I don’t understand.”

“Those living things down there are stuck beyond yards and yards of red tape. I couldn’t talk to them before, not directly. I just heard them. But then… Something happened. After you left. My passion project… I wanted to bring you there myself. But I can see you’re afraid.” He sighed. “She started talking. Crying. I didn’t program that. She was begging me. To kill her. To let her die. To rescue her. I couldn’t – I couldn’t understand it at first. But it was right in front of me. Right there. I can’t turn a blind eye to that. But everyone else is. They’re never going to question it, because this organization brainwashes people, Jen. Don’t you see it?” He looked up at me. Desperation clung at him. His body strained under it. I was starting to see why he always looked so tired. “There’s something about it. People don’t ask questions about the things they see. They don’t talk to anyone else about anything, whether they think it’s because they’ll be found out, or they think that it’s useless to try. Like anything would happen. And they always think it’s not going to be them, or that if they just comply, everything will be fine. They all fall in together and cling to each other like terrified children. Go to functions. Stay within the group. Don’t talk to anyone else. Don’t talk about what’s on the bottom floor, those experiments that went horribly wrong, still moving, still locked up in storage and still fucking crying –“ 

“Damien-“ 

“Shut up.” His eyes were wild. “It’s a cult, Jen.” 

“Damien, I know you feel strongly about this.” I had made a mistake coming here. “But I really think you need to take a step back and think about this for a second. How could it be a cult? How could so many scientific minds manage to contribute to this and not question it? If it was as bad as you say, no one would stay there, right?” Don’t think about it. 

“Maybe I’m wrong,” he finally muttered. I sighed in relief.

“I’m glad you see some sense.” 

“Maybe I’m wrong about you.” He looked up to me with an outright glare. “You’re too far gone, now. You spent so much time hiding in an office that you never once looked around you at what you’re actually doing.” 

“I just came here to humor you and get advice, okay?” I exclaimed. “I don’t need to hear this. I don’t want to be a part of this.” 

“Fucking listen to the girl, then. There. That’s my advice.” He chugged the last of his coffee, then slammed it down. “Listen to your Editor and use her to figure out what’s going wrong. Because no one can get out. I can’t just quit, after what I’ve seen. They’d never let me. And I’m their number one mechanic.” He grimaced. 

“Damien… Maybe it would be a good idea to move to a different dorm.” 

“No.”

“But-“ 

“You don’t believe me. That’s fine.” He stood, grabbing his backpack and made a step towards the door. I don’t know why I grabbed his hand. 

“I don’t believe you,” I muttered. “You sound insane. But I’m a scientific mind. I said so. So… Show me.” I smiled grimly. “You wanted to show me your passion project anyways, right?” 

…..

The machine twitched. Its eyes were closed, the hands little more than sockets and mechanical twists of metal and code. One more twitch, then another, then another. It didn’t move up, nor down. It didn’t react to Damien’s poking through his computer. Not at first. I stared at it. Tried to make sense of it. Tried not to notice the strange inhuman lips that stayed in a slight frown, or the unblinking eye that was a frightening shade of turquoise. She was motionless in the room. Only half formed, she rested on the countertop of the kitchen that formed half of Damien’s company dorm. The rest of her was on the floor. He was still testing out the perfect methods for replicating muscle tissue and a walking cycle, so different sets of skeletal legs littered the floor. It felt like working on a toy. But her face, her mouth, her eye penetrating my stare, that was there. Real. 

He pressed a button, and it was alive. 

It was only a second before it started screaming. 

“Morgan!” He said quickly. He rushed to it, but the robot didn’t respond. The noises were too human, and I wanted to run. There was no trace of a robotic tone, but it came out of a monster. A piece of metal. The arms twisted wildly, clunking into the counter of the kitchen, heavy enough to leave dents that would have broken the ribs of the mechanic if he went any closer. But he did. I was inching towards the door to the dorm when he finally got her to listen to him. 

He held her face in his hands. With her sitting on the counter torso up, he was shorter than her by a couple inches. She stared down at him as the scream cut off. Her eye focused, growing larger and smaller like a camera lens until she finally got a good focus on his pleading eyes. Her mouth, metal skeleton mixed with rubber and latex, twitched. The dozens of muscles within the lips along were not wholly captured by the creature’s enunciation of words. She looked like she wanted to say something. The whirring in her head shifted as she started to purse her lips, upper lip jutting out first, then the lower.

“I’m here,” he said. “I’m here.” 

“It’s cold,” she muttered. Her voice was quiet now, still far too close to human. The muscles under her face twitched again, unrelated to the expression she was trying to make. The coolant fluid gave her skin a strange, bluish glow that pulsed with every pump through her system.

“I know.” 

“I’m scared.” 

“I know, Morgan.” 

“My name’s not Morgan.” It took me a few moments to realize how familiar her voice sounded. I’d never heard it before. It didn’t make any sense. The hair on my nape was rising. 

“Who is it, this time?” He asked, but it came off as more of a demand. “Who’s talking to me?” 

“I don’t know,” she whimpered. “I don’t know who. I don’t know.” 

“What is this?” I demanded. “This isn’t funny, Damien. Why does she sound like that?” I gripped the doorway to the bright, shining glow of the hallway behind me, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Her eyes twitched to me, and my breath caught in my throat. The camera inside her turquoise eye shifted. The musculature under her brows changed, moved, coalesced to form a frown. But her eyebrows were still pointed up. Like a doll trying to look afraid, worried. Wary. I didn’t belong here. 

“It’s the creatures in storage. I told you. How can a robot do this? Somehow download themselves through the airways? Maybe. But…” He turned back to me, keeping a hand on Morgan’s cheek and rubbing it with a soothing touch she couldn’t have felt. “I can’t say I know exactly what they are. I can’t access them normally, as far down as they go. But… I know that somewhere in the depths of the facility lies the creatures with mental capabilities that the Company doesn’t know how to deal with. They told me they’re alive. I want to believe them. I can’t ignore it.” He turned back to the robot, and grimaced. “I was going to program her a personality, but when I first turned her on, it seemed like she had one of her own. But it was them. It was always them. She’s close enough for them to latch onto. I don’t know why, I don’t know how… I don’t know why they haven’t done it to people, or to other machines. But I can talk to them. With her. And they’ve told me about the horrors they’ve been through.” He closed his eyes as he gently rubbed the silicone of the machine’s shoulder. She reached out, twitching as she awkwardly grabbed his arm. The pads of the fingers twitched around him, then closed down, latching onto his outstretched limb with a firm grip. Holding him. “That’s why I needed to talk to you. This is something that I don’t have access to, but you might. You could sift through the Company’s files and figure out what’s down there.”

“I can’t promise that.” A breach of privacy, a breach of trust. “When did this even start?” I tried to ignore the stutter in my voice. “Have you been hiding this the whole time?”

“No. It was a day after you left.” He wouldn’t stop stroking her cheek. “An accident. I knew there were voices. I knew there was something down here but this… This was the final straw.” He looked up to his machine, and my heart dropped when I saw the love in his eyes. 

“It sounds like Ray,” He murmured. “Doesn’t it? It’s not possible. But it’s her.” 

“Who is Ray.” The machine twitched its lips again. She blinked, and looked at him. 

“My sister, remember?” He smiled. “I want to you to meet her, one of these days. You’ll like her. She’s very kind.” 

“I am cold.” My ex wife’s voice spoke quietly from the lips of the robot. “I don’t like it here. I want to escape. Please. Damien. I want to escape.”

I fell back into the brightly lit hallway with a muffled scream. Before Damien could follow me, I was halfway to the elevator. 

My heart was beating out of my chest. All around me on the bottom floor I could feel faces on me, watching my every move. Arms outstretched, reaching towards me, invisible limbs trying to close over my legs and pull me back down to the darkness. I turned a corner, and barely caught it before I continued running. A door. A black door. An absence of light. Next to it was a sign, making a set of stairs leading down. 

This was supposed to be the last floor. 

…..

This was stupid. 

I entered the credentials given to me ages ago. I’d never bothered to use them for anything other than checking emails. Accepted. 

This was a bad idea.

I scrolled through the window, looking for the last floor and the assigned rooms. 

I shouldn’t be doing this. 

The last floor was occupied with only numbers and letters as designations. Each had a corresponding project handle. None of them had ever finished. They were all marked as discontinued. I clicked on the first one, and read through the story of a young man with telepathic abilities found to be the result of crossbreeding with an uncatalogued species. Found in New Mexico after initial recon. Tests ensued once he’d been captured. Building A destroyed as the result of intensive telepathic training. Redesignated to storage on life support. The last floor was storage. The researcher working on the project was subsequently terminated. Orders to not pull the plug, just in case there was something useful about a comatose telepath. 

The next one. 

A little girl, described as prepubescent. No age given. Wasn’t important. Found at an orphanage in Budapest with telekinetic abilities said to be the result of demonic possession. Research was put into the possibility of an afterlife through interviews and possible manipulation of the possessed subject. With only half the body remaining, cautiously on life support, it was impossible to continue the tests. The researching group was subsequently terminated. 

Alive. Every last one of them was alive. 

Life support. Comatose. Catatonic state. Alive. Storage.

Breathing. Alive. No anesthetic for specimen five dash B. His heart wouldn’t be able to take the slowing. 

Alive. Alive. Suffering. Alive. Alive. 

No one has access to this. No one knew about this. No one but the higher ups. Me. I was one of them. I got the opportunity to look at this, because they trusted me. Because they knew that I would listen. 

Half the body of a little girl was down there unable to die. 

The main building of the facility was built on a cemetery of people waiting to die. 

And I knew what would have happened if they were successful. I knew they’d sell that little girl off. Terminate her, if they had to. The scientists were terminated. They would always find more researchers. Unsuccessful ones weren’t useful. But the building blocks of specimens were worth keeping. In cryo. On life support. Alive. Suffering. 

Unable to scream. 

I’d forgotten what my phone sounded like when it was ringing. When I pressed the button to answer the call and put it up to my ear, I found my throat wouldn’t let me speak at first. It had closed up, and my hands were shaking so hard that I had to use both hands just to hold the sliver of tech against my ear. I couldn’t look away from the reports. There was pictures to go with Specimen five dash F. 

“Hello,” I finally croaked. 

“I see you’ve found the reports, Jennifer,” Mr. Laurent had a smile in his voice. 

“I… I…” The world around me was spinning. I couldn’t see. 

“It’s alright. It’s a lot to take in. We don’t usually make public to the rest of our community what happens to the projects that fail. Usually, we don’t keep them. But these still have the possibility of being useful. They can help the Company, that is. And we don’t want to lose things that can help us.”

“This is impossible,” I managed to choke out. “How could you hide this?”

“No, it’s right there, Jen. You had the credentials. I never hid it from you. The Company doesn’t lie. Do you see that? See the pictures, what was done? That is the Company. That’s who we are. I never lied to you about that. You’ve had access to this for the longest time. Because we trust you. You’re one of our best, Jen. And we felt you could handle it.”

“I can’t…” 

“Can’t cope? Well, then you got options. You don’t have to stay here. Don’t have to keep working on that Editor project. You can leave. I’ll give you the out.” 

“Termination?” I whimpered.

“No, no, nothing like that, Jen. You’re special. You’re a good kid. And I really appreciate all the work you’ve done for us. If you wanted to leave on good terms, right now, I would let you. We could work something out together. And you could go back to that ex wife of yours. Start that family that you always wanted, that you gave up on. I understand the divorce still hasn’t gone through. She never seems to leave you alone, does she? She’d probably just let you pick right up, after you’d been gone for years and years.” 

I needed to breath. It was just coming out in gasps. “And… And Dahlia-”

“The Editor? That’s Company property, Jen. You can’t take a specimen off the grounds. But you know what’s riding on this, don’t you? I don’t have to tell you.” The smile in his voice faded. “Jennifer, do you hear me? Loud and clear?” 

“Yes,” I stuttered. 

“You have two choices.” I stared at the screen, at the pictures of the aftermath of an unsuccessful experiment. They had to get two cleaning crew just to wipe off all of the blood, the organs that lay over machinery. And yet, they’d stabilized the man. He’d somehow managed to survive it. Why did they have to take pictures. They didn’t need to take pictures. “You first option is you take your things, and you leave. You go somewhere far away from this with your wife, and you forget this ever happened.” 

“I… I…”

“That would mean forgetting about devoting your life to years and years of study. Do you understand me?” 

“Yes…”

“Or, there’s another option. You keep going. You work with that Editor specimen, and you get it to work with you. And the experiment is completed, and we can initial the final stages of Project Irongate. You’ve sacrificed everything, haven’t you?” 

“I… I can’t go back.” 

“You’ve worked your ass off, ignoring every laugh in your face, to get to this point, haven’t you?” 

I stared blankly at the screen. “I…”

“Jennifer Miller, you discovered the existence of God. Of the possibility of Gods remaking themselves in world after world, and you broke the underground cycle by finding that very girl. You are a revolutionary mind. Are you going to throw that away?” 

Shakily, I moved to minimize the screen. Only then could I breathe, a hacking, shaky breath. With a quiet sob, I fell back against the armchair and listened to the sound of Mr. Laurent’s voice. 

“This is what you worked towards. This whole time. This is where your sacrifices have led you. You need to come to terms with the fact that if you quit now, all of that work will be for nothing. We can’t move on without you, Jen. We all need you. You have to see this through. To the very end.”

“I don’t need to hurt her,” I whispered as loudly as I dared.

“No,” He said with a chuckle. “No, Jen. You don’t have to do any of that.” I breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short lived. “Not if you can get her to manifest her powers without it. But I’ve been reading over your reports. Her powers are most evident when she’s in stress. If you can get her to manifest without stress, then great. You’ve done everything you needed to do. But I want to make this very clear.” He paused. He didn’t need to ask if I was listening. “Your work is going to demand things of you. Things that might come to be difficult to do.”

“Don’t make me thing about that,” I whimpered. “Please.” 

“Not today. Not right now.” He sighed. “Get some sleep, Jen. You filed that request for your specimen’s access to the main facility, right? I pushed it through. Take her out. And maybe something will happen. We might never have to get to this point. It’ll be alright. And I’ll be here with you every step of the way, you got that?” 

“Yes…” 

“That’s my girl. Shining star, Jennifer Miller. Man, you’re a hell of a person.” He hung up. 

I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of crying pleading voices that I knew didn’t exist.


	13. Chapter 13

Dahlia 

The philosopher twined in and out of the sea of scientists with the practiced grace of a cat. Her eyes kept flicking back to me, like at any moment I’d decide that this was a stupid idea and would run up the first hallway with stairs that I could see. She wasn’t wrong. I was certainly watching for each exit that I could catch. There were a few of them. Mostly elevators that were filled with people, a few staircases less overflowing with walking labcoats and young adults with music in their ears, but nothing that I could easily slink off to and use. Where would I even go anyways? There wasn’t anywhere else to be. I didn’t know Manhattan, or this building, or how to get home. She’d led me here and there was nowhere left to run. No one to run to. If my mother gave me away, then I didn’t have a home to go back to either. 

I brushed up against the philosopher’s side. 

“Hey,” she said in surprise. “We’re almost there.” 

“I don’t like this place,” I muttered. 

“Too many people, right?” I glared at the ground and nodded. “I wish I could say it wasn’t always like this.” She sighed. “They’re always pushing more people in all the time. I’ve made, well, tried to make a few friends here, I guess. But it’s hard. There’s just such a massive list of staff that you lose track of everyone. Even at my group, my… My building.” She paused, waiting for me to say something. I supposed it was expected of me to react, but I chose to play with my fingernails and wait for her to stop saying things that I didn’t really care about. 

We continued walking in silence, with me at her side and her still onto those stupid lanyards in her hand. My face jangled against hers, with an ID attached to it. It was my school picture, from fourth grade. 

I wondered if I was ever going to go to school again. 

“Did you want to know anything about your powers, Dahlia?” She finally asked. As she did, she pressed a button to a door, and we took our first turn off the massive corridor into one that was slightly more manageable, and considerably more empty. In this hall, cross sections of other halls intersected with each other, all brightly lit with an abnormal white glow. My sneakers squeaked on the tiled floor obnoxiously with every step I took. I tried to pick my feet up. The noises jarred against my brain. But even then, I’d still catch a toe or a sole and it didn’t help much, in the end. Every tiny noise was making my eye twitch. The bubble of conversation wasn’t around us anymore to drown it out. 

“Everything,” I said.

“I don’t even know everything, you know.” She paused by one of the halls, murmuring directions to herself. She counted the halls on the side of the main corridor, then when she was done, she kept walking. I stared at her, but I didn’t bother to say anything. As soon as she was walking again, I rushed to catch up to her.

“What do you know?” 

“That… Not even I really know. It’s… Complicated. But, I know that you should have this ability to make,” she said carefully, after a long moment of thought. “There’s a lot of history, and speculation, and theory that got me to find you. At lot of looking through records, of people that were supposedly going mad. A lot just thinking about what might actually be out there. And guessing. Trial and error. Periods in my life where even I thought I was crazy.” She glanced down at me, and tried to smile. I glared back at her, and she finally seemed to realize that I didn’t care if she pretended to be nice to me. She dropped her smile, and turned her attention back to the hall while uttering a soft sigh. “But it worked. A million to one chances, and I found you.” 

I wish she hadn’t. 

“You’re an Editor. The first one that I think we’ve ever actually known about, but not the first one ever.” 

“That’s too vague-” My tongue caught in my throat. My foot slipped on the hallway floor, and I nearly went barrelling into a wall. She grabbed me at the last minute, inches from hitting the concrete wall and left me staring at it with bleary eyes and a vision dotted with faint fireworks. I slowly looked up at her. Her hand was on my shoulder, holding it as tightly as she dared and looking almost terrified for me.

“Are you alright?” 

I tore myself away from her with a scowl, glaring down into those eyes that she could make seem worried. “I’m fine. Keep talking. You’re being too vague and I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” My eyes narrowed up at her. “I’m just a kid, you know.” I guess she wouldn’t. Tearing me away from my home, and all that. 

She was sighing again. Of course she was, there was no comeback she could make. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. I ignored it. “An Editor is a placeholder name for person with the abilities of a… a builder. A creator. A constructor of anything that they can think of. If they have the idea, it can generate right before their very eyes. They make things work, things break, things start and stop. It’s a kind of willpower, I think.”

“You think.” 

“An inner super computer inside a mind, able to construct things out of sheer will to do so. Like if you were to think about something hard enough, it would exist.” 

“That doesn’t make sense,” I argued. “I want lots of things. And they don’t exist just because I want them. That’s stupid. That’s not how people work.” 

“I know. It sounds crazy. And there isn’t anything that separates you from anyone else on the surface. But that’s why we’re here.” She tried to smile again, but I turned away before she could try. “It’s so that we can learn as much as we can. I want to help you reach that.” Her feet clicked sharply against the tiled floors, just as hard as mine, but somehow my ears seemed so set on listening to her movements more than my own. My ears would ring just from a simple footfall. “But, theoretically, there have been lots of Editors before you. What they tend to do, at least, what I think they do is, ah… They make a universe.” I whipped my head around to see her stopping fumble with the keypad of one of the doors. I continued to stare at her back, waiting for her to say something, that she was joking. She didn’t talk. I wished she would just talk.

“What?” 

“Ah… They make worlds, and then they leave seeds for the next editor to make the next one. It’s like a life cycle. They’re a species just like any other, but only one of them can exist at a time in a world. We couldn’t find any other than you in this one, and someone had to make this world. There’s evidence to support the creation of this world through an editor with the same editorial signature that we helped use to find you. But there’s so little evidence to get that information that I’m still not sure about it. Maybe you really are the first. Maybe… Maybe I’m just plain crazy.” I couldn’t see her face as she stared down at the keypad, but her shoulders sagged. “But that’s my theory, anyways. It’s not provable, and there’s little backing for an Editor before you, but otherwise it doesn’t make any – damn this door, one second.” She shoved at it with the weight of her shoulder as the bar turned green, but it wouldn’t budge. She tried again, then with her bruised shoulder pushed at it one more time before the door was pulled open by a labcoat from the other side of the door. The man behind the locked door looked down at the philosopher sprawled over the tiles, then turned his gaze to me. 

“… Are you alright, ma’am?” 

“Just fine. I think.” In a second she’d popped up from the ground and was dusting herself off. She didn’t look him in the eye when she spoke. “I’ve got two passes here,” she held them out with heaving breaths. “We just wanted to take a look at this part of the facility.” 

“A little girl, and her mom?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“She’s not my mother,” I finally said. I was still staring at the philosopher, holding so tightly onto Remmy that I thought his head would pop right off. My knuckles were white.

“No!” The philosopher said quickly. “She’s my – my – ah.” She pushed her hands in her pockets with a bitten lip. “My associate. We’re working together on a project. One of the subwings, down south.” 

“Not a specimen?” I asked. I brushed up beside her again with my eyes burrowing into her neck. She had to say something. In the back of my mind, the same words she’d just told me were repeating over and over again. She carefully looked away from me with a pleasant smile toward the scientist. I narrowed my eyes. She was ignoring me. She could have been lying. Or she could have been trying very, very hard to hide that it was the truth. This wasn’t something you hid from people. 

I supposed that being thrown into the middle of a facility like this meant she wasn’t trying to hide. “I’m supposed to be some builder of universes or something, aren’t I? God?” I wasn’t going to let her get away with this. I couldn’t even imagine it. It was stupid. She was crazy. It didn’t make sense.

“I’m sorry?” The man coughed. 

“Dahlia, please, give me a second.” She turned back to the make with a sheepish grin. “I’m very sorry for the confusion. But all the information should be on those IDs. Feel free to contact the top office if you have any worries. We’re simply here to look at the various specimens.” She smiled nervously as she held them out for him. “I’m giving my associate a tour of the more outlandish creatures in our facility, starting with the vampires on your wing.” 

“I don’t like it when you ignore me,” I glowered, for what little it mattered.

“I haven’t had enough coffee for this,” he muttered as he looked over the lanyards. “… Looks authentic, but I don’t honestly care. The vamps haven’t done anything lately, but you need to be careful. If you’re going to go in there you need to exercise absolute caution and keep your… Associate from any unwarranted action. No funny business. I don’t want them getting out on my watch. And I’ll be making sure neither of you do anything that’ll get yourselves killed. This isn’t Wonderland, you can’t just show up and run around the place. Got it?”

“I’m a specimen,” I corrected them as I walked past the man. Whatever they were talking about didn’t matter to me, and his voice was starting to dribble out of my ears and go fuzzy. The philosopher wasn’t answering the important questions that depended on who I even was anymore. I just wanted to think through what she’d finally told me. The colors, the feeling of fireworks, the strange way my eyes didn’t work right. The noises. There was something bigger than just colors behind everything. She had hinted at it, I supposed. She was always afraid of saying things. And now I knew why. 

Because it was stupid. It was completely insane. I couldn’t just do literally anything. A God. All-powerful. I could make anyone do exactly what I wanted. I could make people listen to me. They wouldn’t be able to say no. I could control everything. I could eat all the food I wanted, play all the games I wanted. Make the world summer, all the time. Kill everyone. Make them over in my image. Do whatever I could even think of. Everything could be silent, and I wouldn’t have to listen to the loud noises that hurt my ears so much anymore. I kept trying to make sense of it, rationalize it in my head. But when I looked around and I saw where I was and what they’d done to take me, I couldn’t think of any other possible reason. There was no way it could be true, but if they were wrong, then they’d messed up beyond belief. 

No wonder she wanted to be my friend so badly. She was just trying to appease someone that could kill her if they thought it. I opened one hand, then closed it, and tried to feel for the power she said that I contained. I tried to look for the fireworks, the color, the things inside me that shouldn’t exist. All I would have to do is think it, and I could be away from all of this. I could be somewhere else. Maybe with mother. And Charlie would have to be there too, I guessed. Maybe I could have a father this time. I tried to imagine what he would look like, but all I could see was a dark image dotting my vision like little particles of dust. Hollow eyes staring back at me, mirroring my own. The face of someone I’d never seen before was little more than a shadow of a man. 

And then I only saw the dark hallway ahead of me. 

But why couldn’t I just close my eyes and just leave right now?

Remmy was half dragging on the floor when the labcoat yelled back at me, realizing I wasn’t stopping.

“Hey, kid, you can’t go on ahead like that-”

“The passes say I can.” I didn’t bother to look back at him as I tried to discern what was down the hall. This hallway was somehow darker, no matter how brightly the annoying buzzing lights seemed to shine. A metallic smell licked at the edge of my nose, and shadows clung harder to the walls than they did normally here. A hum was slowly growing, so quiet at first that I wasn’t sure anyone else could hear it. I didn’t risk closing my eyes and seeing if I could make myself fly. There was something else here. Something even I could feel, even if I couldn’t see it.

The hair on my neck was rising.

The philosopher caught up to me with one last thank you to the baffled scientist. He began to slowly walk after us with the zombified stride of an adult that hadn’t had coffee. The philosopher took one last look at the passes before scrunching her nose and pocketing them. 

“The CEO did that for you?” I asked without really caring.

“It wasn’t exactly a favor.” 

“Then what was it.” 

“A bribe.” She looked sharply ahead, but there was nothing to see but the end of the hall. I knew, because I kept trying to make it change. As she continued, the shadows seemed to slither, clinging to the two of us while the world steadily dimmed, further and further. Her eyes flicked from wall to wall like a creature caught in a trap. I caught her thrumming her fingers against the side of her pants, a faint tremor running through her the scientist behind us finally caught up to her quick walk. 

“Why?” 

“Because I have enough seniority to see things in this place that I probably shouldn’t. And I saw some terrible things yesterday that he wants me to look past. He gave me this to try and forget about everything.” 

“Is that why you refused to leave me alone?” I asked. She paused then, looking back at my luminous expression. I’d stopped in the middle of the hall to watch her. Her lip had been worried by her teeth to a bitten mess, and there were those ever-present dark circles under her eyes. She couldn’t sit still. Even as we stopped in the middle of the hall, she was still flicking her fingers against her jeans, still shaking slightly as the scientist stopped impatiently behind us. I could hear the phone in her back pocket going off. 

“Yes,” she finally said. “Can we keep going now, Dahlia? I don’t want to stay here too long.” 

“You and me both, ma’am,” The scientist muttered. We went quiet when we started to walk again. This time, the tiles didn’t squeak. They were to old, too ratty and filled with little holes from wear on shoes long before mine. It was quiet here, if it weren’t for the sound of a lamp that was in need of replacing somewhere down the hallway. That buzz that grew steadily louder and floated around my ears, settling on the nape of my neck.

“Are you going to look past it?” 

“What?” 

“What you saw. Did it work? Are you bribed?” 

“I… No.” She awkwardly adjusted her blouse, and went quiet again. I could hear the sound of her working through the words in her head and trying to figure out how best to lie to me. “It’s not that he was successful in bribing me. But I feel like… Like I need to do something.” 

“Something.” 

“To make sure you stay safe,” she mumbled. “Did we have to pick here, of all places? The mermaids are at least well lit.” 

“You chose this place,” I reminded her. “You were the stupid one.”

“It’s not the lighting, ma’am. The vampires have a discharge impossible to keep imprisoned. This is the best we could do. Believe it or not, we’re working at two hundred and ten percent.” 

“That’s not a very good lie,” I said to the philosopher. 

“Which?”

“To keep me safe.”

“That’s because it isn’t a lie. I’m afraid of what might happen if I just packed up and left. You’d be alone. I can’t leave you alone. Not here. Not where you’re already alone enough as it is.” 

I stopped walking, and stared at the back of the philosopher. The scientist made an impatient noise as he stopped behind me, but I couldn’t have cared less. It took a second for the woman to realize I was no long beside her. She glanced back at me and tried to smile again, this time holding out her hand. 

“Are you afraid? It’s kind of dark down here, isn’t it?” She was trying to treat me like a child, when I was anything but to her. I was supposed to be a monster. She was pretending. And she wasn’t doing a very good job. 

“I’m not afraid. But you’re lying to me.” It was laughable. How could she say something that sounded so true when the only thing she cared about was whether I listened to her or not? She just wanted me happy, so I’d listen when I became this Editor she wanted so badly. This is the entire reason she wanted me in the first place, and wanted me complacent. I was being manipulated. I looked in her eyes and I tried to see me. It had to be there. She was just making me into a façade of a child for her so she could control. That’s what psychopaths did.

“I’m not.” Her smile dropped an inch, but that worried look remained. “I don’t want to leave you alone, Dahlia. And you’re not my specimen.” 

“Yes I am. You’re lying. You’re just trying to get me to do what you want. To make a world for you, or something.” 

“I don’t want to make you do anything but reach your full potential, and keep you safe. And that…” She faltered. “That isn’t it here. I wish it was, but it’s not.” Her eyebrows knitted. “Maybe when all this is over, we… We can find something else. But how can I prove to you that I’m not lying now?” She asked. “How can I show you that I’m not trying to trick you? I know I broke everything before. I know I made you hate me. And you’re right too. I… I wanted you to come with me before. And I still do want us to work together to unleash your abilities. But anyone could do that. They wanted to send other psychologists after you, to poke and prod. But none of them knew who you were. None of them realized just how much you could care deep inside. Everyone only ever seems to see the way you look and act on the surface. But I know you have something in there. Deep inside.” She strode up to me, then crouched down and grabbed my free hand before I could tug it away. “I can’t leave you alone here. I won’t let them pull us apart. You’re my responsibility. So what can I do to show that?” 

She was far too earnest. Too honest. I hated the way her voice wavered, like she was on the edge of tears. Just like Charlie, she was too stupid to lie. It made me want to look away, maybe throw up. I looked down at her with furrowed brows and waited for an answer to come. Waited for something, anything that I could use against her. But I already had her agreeing to everything I wanted, if only I agreed to what she wanted. That’s the way it was going to work, no matter what I said. 

“It doesn’t matter,” I muttered. “You want me to do something for you. I want you to do things for me. So we’ll just work together. I guess.” It wrinkled my nose just to say it. 

“How?” She persisted.

“Do what I say.” 

“Okay.” 

“And listen to me.” 

“Okay.” 

“And give me pizza.” 

“Okay.”

“And we have to go outside. I don’t like it down here. It’s terrible. And take the camera out of my room.” 

“Okay,” Jennifer said. “I’ll do that. All of it.” She squeezed my hand. Surprised, I was thrown off for a moment. I would have though the cameras would have been impossible. They were so insistent on them before. But she was watching, staring at me too strongly. I wanted to turn away even more than before. It was sickeningly sweet. I didn’t like that love in her eyes. It didn’t belong there. 

“And… Don’t… Don’t leave me alone. Not with the weird people in lab coats, like him.” I gestured to the less than amused scientist behind me. “I don’t know anybody else.” Security. I needed security, at least for now. I had no idea what she’d seen, but I didn’t want to find out what it was. And I was nothing more than a little puny human in a sea of adults being told that maybe, just maybe, if I was good, I could be a God. I needed her. Just so I could escape. 

“Dahlia…” She wrapped an arm around me, but quickly let go when she felt how stiff I was. “I’m not going anywhere. Ever. I promise.” She stood up, realized I was dragging Remmy along, then picked him up to place him tightly in my arms. “I can’t leave you. You’re not a project to me.” 

“Then what am I?” I persisted. Tell me I was a specimen. Come on. I was a specimen. I was a monster to her. I couldn’t have been anything else. 

“A friend.” That didn’t sound real. 

“You’re lying again. That’s an even worse lie than before.” She held out her hand again, like I would ever take it. 

“At the very least, an associate.”

I’m just your specimen. But you’ll do what I say, because you want me to do something for you. Don’t pretend this isn’t anything other than that.” I strode ahead, ignoring the outstretched fingers that trembled ever so slightly. “Where are the vampires? I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” 

“Down this hall,” she relented. 

“No, it’s down that way,” the scientist moved past Jennifer with an eyeroll and led the way down the corridor, turning down a path that was half hidden. “You two are absolutely ridiculous, you know that? I don’t need a soap opera first thing in the morning.” 

“It’s almost six in the afternoon,” Jennifer protested. 

“Exactly. That’s my morning.” 

The hallway’s lighting grew worse, the further down we went. The sound of flickering strobes grew louder and louder, until I was glaring at each individual fixture and wondering if I thought hard enough, could I get it to stop.

But that faded from my mind when we turned a corner, and entered through another door. This one was much, much older than the other one. The keypad didn’t even work, and all it took was a jiggle from the scientist against the doorknob to slowly open it, and come face to face with a massive room, sectioned off with different cells. The darkness here had permeated everything. The ceiling rose up at least thirty feet in the air, covered with thick plates of steel instead of the tiling and lighting fixtures that I had gotten steadily more tired of over the course of this little field trip. 

There were five cells. Each were plated with that same steel and were reinforced even larger cross sections of steam beams in a hatching pattern. The only way in were five matching safe doors, all of them heavily locked down with keypads that absolutely worked this time. They were lit up with a faint green glow that seemed snuffed out amongst the shadowy tendrils that looks for any source of light within their vicinity. The darkness seemed to generate from nothing. Bullet proof glass separating the rest of the room from the cells showed only the same shade inside each of these reinforced rooms. The darkness inside there seemed to flow like water compared to the thin shadows that leaked out from the cells, though there didn’t seem to any possible way for these things to escape. There was no hole, not even any ventilation. Those rooms were air tight. 

“I’d recommend standing back, at least at first. You’re a foreign object. It excites them,” the scientist behind us spoke up. We’d both wandered a little too close without realizing it. Jennifer turned around quickly, but I continued to stare in depth at the darkness that persisted behind that glass. “The shadows escaping might be normal and perfectly safe, but these creatures are known to be highly unpredictable. Their aura itself is so suffocating, even humans can feel that there’s something awry. Not the best way to be greeted in the morning, I’m telling you.” 

“I can feel it,” I muttered, taking a step closer. The shadows were beckoning to me. Something was there, something terrible strong and overwhelmingly evil. An absence of light and color was asking me to come closer. 

“Are you certain the shadows are safe?” Jennifer asked. She watched me move closer nervously, then outstretched her arms when she seemed to think I’d gotten too far. I was already out of reach. “Dahlia, be careful please. I wouldn’t-” She took a step closer, but I ducked away from her with a glare. 

“Don’t touch me. I just want to go look.” 

“It should be alright. We work in this room often for testing purposes,” he motioned to the computers at one end of the room behind another reinforced glass wall. Other more complicated tools were sealed off in the same fashion. It didn’t seem to do much to the shadows though. They gobbled up the light just as well, regardless of what material stood in their way. “The only time they’ve ever been able to leave the room is when we found one of the cells were no longer sealed. The specimens’ ability to turn to mist is extremely difficult to work with in testing, especially with unwillingness to work in general. God, I’ve only been here for the past couple years working with them. I can only imagine how difficult it was getting them from halfway around the world.” 

“But they’re not going to hurt her,” Jennifer insisted. “Right?” 

“Right, they shouldn’t be able to do anything to her. But I don’t know why you chose this, of all places.” 

“I’d just… I’d heard that this was an interesting place to check out. That it was safe. I wanted to show her, the… You know, the creatures.” 

“I get it. You read a book or two, and suddenly you think vampires are the most amazing thing in the world. Well, I’m sorry to say that the public discourse of ideas has a way of distorting things. These aren’t always the greatest to look at when they’re always in mist form just to piss you off. Nothing to see. I guess it’s better than monsters, though.” Jennifer went quiet. I could hear her steps as she walked closer to join me at the edge of one of the cells. To watch, just like me. 

Through the bulletproof glass, I could see that mist. That wavering, shimmering darkness that he was talking about spanned the entire cell. Deep inside the room, I caught the tiniest glimpse of the edge of a coffin, of a pile of plastic in the corner, and smudges of something against the wall. 

“What’s the plastic?” I asked. 

“Blood bags, most likely. That’s the main guy. Big bad, turned the other four, we’re not exactly sure when but the lore goes back thousands of years. He likes to keep his place neat. At least, neater than the others. I mean, I think it’s him. All I got is historical sheets explaining to me what he used to be like before he went all…” He gestured vaguely. “Misty.”

Something was watching me. I found feel the eyes boring into my eyes. Jennifer had moved onto the next cell when she’d felt it, but I kept staring. She was afraid of something familiar looking right back at us. Something in the darkness that shouldn’t be there, but that everyone felt when they let their imagination get the better of them. Only this time, I was staring at the source of it with my own eyes. It wasn’t being crazy, it was looking at it in the flesh. In the mist. I was gazing into the face of a predator, even though I was staring at nothing but darkness. This overwhelming aura was overtaking me, every facet of my being. Something was telling me that I was supposed to be scared, that I should run, or that my legs should stop working right here and I should let the thing take me. 

I glared into the glass window and waited for it to show itself. 

“Can they hear us?” I asked.

“I don’t know, they never talk,” the labcoat said from the far side of the room. He hadn’t bothered to come closer. He was too busy going back behind his own bulletproof glass wall to check something on his computer. “But there’s some interesting signatures going on there. What are you doing?” 

“Just looking.” 

“That doesn’t look like looking to me. I’ve never seen someone try to challenge the thing before. Usually they run, even when they’re used to that feeling. You know, the one you’re probably feeling right now. Gets me every time, at least.” Jennifer had moved to the far cell, never taking more than a few seconds to look at each of them. Before I could turn back to see if anything in my cell had changed, she was walking over to his station with a little hop in her step. The whites of her eyes were wide in nervous fear. There was no hiding behind that grimace. 

“You.” The voice was deep, and breathy. 

I blinked. 

“Did you two hear that?” I looked back to Jennifer and the labcoat. Jennifer looked up in confusion and quickly shook her head. The whites of her eyes grew. 

“It’s quiet as can be here, except for the lights working overtime,” she said nervously. “Are you alright? You can come away from there. It’s been a little long, hasn’t it?” 

“She’s fine,” the labcoat interjected. “Something’s going on in that cell, but I don’t think it’s anything that can hurt her. I’m going to try to see if I can get the audio hooked up from there. It hasn’t worked in months, though. I never saw the need to check it, you know? Mist won’t exactly carry a conversation.” 

“Maybe it could talk through that door, and she heard it?” 

“No, that’s impossible. You can hear literally nothing from the cells. It’s not just airtight, it’s utterly soundproof too. They spent their first years screeching so loud we had multiple crews with bloody ears. I read over the files.” 

“You’re not running, little thing.” The voice said again. I narrowed my eyes, then pressed my face up against the glass and waited for something to happen. Remmy pressed his face up with me, and the two of us looked intently for any sign of change within the mist. That feeling was growing stronger, and I didn’t like it. I wanted it gone. But if I ran away now, then I was losing. I didn’t like that much either. 

That’s when I saw it begin to twist itself around. At first it was a gentle breeze that shouldn’t have existed inside an airtight cell, gently moving about and twisting the fronds of darkness. But then the plastic began to catch. It grew steadily stronger, taking strands of shadow with it, and revealed that the smudges on the fall walls had been dried blood at one point before they’d stopped bothering to clean the cells entirely. But it didn’t stop there. It grew further. Stronger. A storm was transpiring within the cell and a gathering form was at the center of it all. 

Then his eyes met with mine, his face pressed up against the glass. White skin, black eyes. Too white. I could see too much. I was looking into an abyss. 

I fell back onto the ground. 

Dimly, I could hear the labcoat yelling, but I was too busy staring back at the creature’s face. It wasn’t human. It wasn’t even close. The thin blue veins ran just under his skin, littering his features, coalescing around massive black eyes as dark as voids. His mouth opened slowly, a panting, throaty breath, to reveal fangs as long as a finger. The visage of the creature disappeared past his chest with the window only showing his bust, but it was little more than a skeleton. Bones thrust out of the creature’s shoulders, his neck, his clavicle, skin like webbing over each of them, barely enough to cover them. Impossibly thin. He couldn’t survive like this. But he looked more than surviving, standing in front of me. His eyes were wild, hyper aware of me in front of him. He knew that I was still watching him, even now. Even sitting on my butt, Remmy held on by only an arm, I was watching. Glaring at the creature. He kept trying to make me even more afraid. He was doing a terrible job. 

“What are you?” The creature asked me. His voice reverberated around in my head like it would never end. I hated it. I hated just how loud he was. I wanted to scream. “What kind of monster isn’t afraid of death?

So I screamed. 

“Stop getting into my head! You’re so loud! Stop it! You’re so fucking annoying!” I threw Remmy at the cell door, and was almost satisfied when he ducked away. But he returned just as quickly, a grin rising slowly when I tried to struggle to my feet. I hated the way he made my body shake. It was just a physical reaction. He made me into nothing but rage and suddenly everything I’d kept under lock and key seemed to trickle away. I thought there was nothing. I was so certain that I didn’t care. But it flickered at the edge of my senses, zeroing in on the monster and making the world close in around us. Black. He was nothing but black. A faintly green Remmy stood at the bottom of the safe door, but the monster was a void of the dark. Absolutely disgusting. 

“You’re too silent,” he screamed back into my mind, a laugh echoing along with the tinny, harsh voice he made especially this time to hurt more. My fists clenched against the sharp, intense pain that dotted my vision and left me lightheaded. It was wrenching, violent, pulling at the very fabric of my mind. I couldn’t concentrate. Everything was flickering back and forth, light to dark. I was trying to understand the photo negative my blotted eyes were staring at uncomprehendingly. His face turned to darkness itself, white eyes staring back at me. A familiar face of death was watching me and I couldn’t place where I knew him. He opened his mouth, and a black and white maw of fangs bore down on me. Hissing to dare come closer and kick the snake. I wanted to. Desperately, if only I could concentrate without the pain searing into me. “There’s something dark about you. Your blood smells absolutely mesmerizing.” 

“Shut up!” Arms wrapped around me and started to drag me away, but I was kicking and punching back as I fought to run back at him. He’d changed back to that ethereal pale creature, but he was just as dark as before. There was no hiding it from me. The flickering green of Remmy was getting stronger too, but I barely noticed it when my mind was on fire from his reverberations. “You’re so annoying! I hate you!” 

“Hate. It’s a wonder you feel it. I thought you were nothing.” Of course, I felt it. It consumed everything. I couldn’t feel anything else. I was filled with the anger that made my entire body tense and shudder, shake under the prison of flesh my soul had been forced inside. It was his fault. I had to kill him, to make it stop. There was no way I could make it stop if I kept hearing his voice tearing me apart. It hurt more than words could explain.

I reached up to grab him. He was too far away. If only I was closer. I could kill him where he stood. I could make him shut up. I could wipe that grin off his face. Like he knew a joke that I wasn’t privy too. 

“Shut up!” I screamed, and the world around us shattered into color. 

Unimaginable pain consumed me. 

I was on fire. 

I could feel it under my eyes. 

Color. Flowing. Shuddering. Shaking. 

I woke up staring at the ceiling of my holding facility with Remmy in my arms. Slowly, I sat up. Gingerly ran a hand through my hair, and winced. The memory of tremulous pain had left me with a massive, but manageable headache. Which meant it hadn’t been a dream. 

At that, I turned my gaze to see where the security camera had been. Nothing but a swivelling stump remained. 

I lay back down, and clutched Remmy tight in my arms. 

I remembered the power I’d had. I held up a hand, and tried to recall it, but there was nothing now. Nothing but faint memories of looking death in the eye and staring him down.

I narrowed my eyes, then stroked Remmy’s head. Played with his ears. Listened to the utter silence in absence of the moving camera. Maybe doing what Jennifer asked wasn’t such a bad idea.


	14. Chapter 14

Jennifer 

Staring at the phone in my hand was like holding a rattlesnake in my hand and waiting for it to bite. 

The soft blue of my office came from the illumination of the fish take that took up the entire wall of the room, but as calming as it might have been, it didn’t fix the strained and addled nerves. Not even the familiar scent of old paper on philosophy could help me now. Briefly, I wondered if any of those ancient Greeks would know what to do in situation like this. They’d probably be at a loss. But then, maybe everyone would. I was. I couldn’t stop thinking, couldn’t stop staring at my phone, looking between the lines of text notifications and waiting for the bravado that I knew I could garner if I just pressed the damned button. If I just faced what I needed to face. 

This wasn’t for me anymore. I couldn’t hide anymore. I had to deal with a decision that was tearing me apart, and it wasn’t even the first one. I already knew the choice I’d made. I knew what I was going to tell him. But if I couldn’t even do the right thing for myself, then I wondered if it was even possible for me to do the right thing for her. I told her I’d do the right thing. Every day was a day I decided I was going to make up to her. And maybe then she might come back to the way things were. Maybe then I could have something. Something I didn’t deserve. 

I was wasting time. Now I was staring at a phone, waiting for it to call itself, trying to ignore my throat closing up on its own.

Those vibrations still sounded off, just in case I forgot them. Maybe once a day, once a week, but they’d come eventually. I’d see a picture of her face and wonder why I hadn’t deleted the number, why I hadn’t blocked it, why she wouldn’t just sign the papers and deal with the lawyer instead of trying to patch things up with me. There was nothing to patch up. She was making it all about her. Even if it wasn’t the reason I had the phone in my hand, it still found a way to make that rattle all about them. Maybe I should have bothered to call back that secretary. Maybe I was just too afraid to do it all on my own.

I pressed the phone to my ear as soon as my shaky fingers could get the right number. It took me four times, but I’d done it. And I was dreading every second of it. I almost hoped he would just let me leave a message. I just wanted a message. That was all. We didn’t need to talk. I didn’t need everything pulled apart again. 

My throat squeezed shut when he picked up the phone on the third ring.

“Is this Jen?” Laurent asked in mock disbelief. “Calling me, of all times? Why, I feel special.”

“We’re going to work on a campaign of getting her powers to manifest without the use of dangerous practices.” Even after rehearsing the lines over and over again, I still found myself jumbling them. They fell apart at the seams no matter how steady they seemed to be. As soon as I told him something logical, I somehow felt stupid for it. 

He hadn’t even said anything, but I could imagine what he looked like. I tried to power through. “I’m going to work with her one on one. We’ll find a way to get her to manifest her powers. She’s agreed to the project, to helping us.” Too quickly. The look in her eyes had thrown me. For a moment, there was something there. Something sparkling. Something desperate. And then it was gone, she’d woken up like it was some kind of dream, ready and prepared for whatever next steps we’d have to take. My little associate. 

But the results. From pain. That wasn’t going to go ignored. I tried to keep a steady hand. “I don’t know what you heard about the incident,” I continued, “but none of what happened is going to change with the way that I run my experiment.” 

“Why are you so sure about that?” I stared blankly into my office. The confidence barked out from his jovial voice like a seal. I was already breaking down and he’d barely said a word.

“What are you talking about?” 

“I know you’re afraid, Jenny. I mean, who wouldn’t be?” The disembodied voice chuckled. The sound of ocean waves rose up from the other line. I could hear the sound of seagull calling nearby. The clinking of wine glasses. “You saw some scary things down there in the main facility. Shared by… David, was it? No… Damien! That’s it. We’ve been monitoring his debilitating and crumbling mental health, as I’m sure you’ve got a glimpse of yourself. The kid’s intercepting telepathic communications and suddenly his poor morals are going haywire. But, he’s working. That’s all that matters, as I’m sure you’re aware. I’m glad you decided to stay, even if he’s still guessing. But I think all of this might be affecting your ability to reason. You’re a bleeding heart, I get that. But, see, I read the incident report. And I don’t think it’s going be as difficult as you think it is. That girl, she’s got something going for her. A real spitfire, when she’s not busy coming right out of The Exorcist. She was willing to punch that vamp right in it’s smoky face, even with those telepathic screams going off the charts. Would have killed lesser men. It wouldn’t be hard to get her in the right direction, right?” She’d asked for it. “Honestly, a kid would agree to anything with a promise, wouldn’t they?” 

“You’re insane if you think that Dahlia would ever agree to what you subjected those people to in the bottom floor.” I bit my lip. The front sounded strong enough. Almost enough for me to believe myself. I tried to forget what she’d said she’d be willing to do.

“You spoke with her after, didn’t you? Did you ever read the incident report yourself, Jen? Or did you bury your head in the sand and pretended that your little pseudo daughter was still the same stoic sociopath you know and love? That wasn’t a psycho looking into the eyes of another killer and turning away for lack of fear. That was passion. That was emotion. It wasn’t logical. And illogical thinking is the best kind for what we need here.” 

I’d read the report. I’d seen it with my own eyes. I’d pulled her away from that monster. I’d calmed her down. I made her look at me. See those eyes burning. Recognize me. Sleep. Sleep for hours, and hours, trying to recover from the power signature that had nearly wiped out the entire floor - including the fail safes the vamps were locked under in the first place. In the moment, I could see it there. Something bright, and massive. The sublime stretching out before her very eyes in an entirely altered and broken up expression of hatred and desire. The next day, it had faded to almost nothing, and the day after it was gone. It was the faintest thing, looking back at me with expectancy and eagerly beckoning me closer. Behind a child’s eyes was something so grand and unimaginable that I couldn’t help but catch my breath. Watch it slowly die away. And then watch her further, sitting in her chair as she quietly pet her stuffed cat and mourned for something she didn’t know she’d lost. 

That’s why she’d asked so often, to try again. And why I’d agreed to this damned call in the first place. That, and she’d started calling me by my name again. She looked to me in the eyes again. She let me touch her again, even if it was for only a moment. Something as small as that was enough to keep me going. 

“She… Wants to help. A lot,” I said carefully. Trying to word that in a way he couldn’t bring against me. In a way he wouldn’t guess. He didn’t know. Only I knew what Dahlia said she was willing to do. “But we’ve agreed to working with different techniques than the ones that previously got her to manifest her powers. Together. She’s willing to do what it takes. But that doesn’t have to be throwing herself into the fire. I’ve thought of plans. Regiments. Ways to work back to that, without the need for pain.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you could think of plenty of ways to pad your way out towards the inevitable. Whatever soothes your conscience. The incident report said she nearly broke the failsafes with that power, right? All because she wanted to punch a vamp. I’m looking over the files again now. Jeez, that’s a face only a mother could love. The vampire, not your kid. Though the eyes on that girl still freak me out. So… That’s what the plan was, eh? Those creatures were smart enough to recognize she wasn’t exactly human, and tried to play with it? They just didn’t know exactly what they were getting into. Thought they were playing with fire, not a fucking sun. I’m just glad that those failsafes didn’t go offline. Smart little gremlins. Tell me again why we’re letting vamps stay in our facility? Immortality? I’ve already drank that juice.” 

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, sir. We’re getting off topic.” 

“Oh, that I’m not exactly a fan of these things. They’re kind of terrible, and they’re using valuable Company dollars. Pay off enough bloodbanks and sure, we can keep them going, keep them all cranky and misty or whatever inside their hermetically sealed shells. But at what cost? I feel like the other witness was seriously considering his life choices that day. He thought he was going to die, according to his statement, and I don’t blame him. Thought the whole world was crashing down, in fact. A bright light like that in the middle of a vamp space? Don’t they suck the light out of everything in a five hundred metre radius? It’s not possible. He thought he’d died and was at the pearly gates.” He paused, and I faintly heard him sipping something through a straw. “See, she’s crazy, Jen. Your little girl. But it’s the kind of crazy we can work with. The kind of crazy that you can soothe your conscience with. You know that if you told her, she’d agree.” She already had. 

“You don’t know her, sir. What happened that day wasn’t normal. And she’s back to herself. We shouldn’t be trying to play with her instability during her manifesting. She’s still just as wary of the Company as she was previously, and I don’t blame her. She won’t listen to anyone but me, and that’s because I didn’t lie to her about what we have in the basement.” 

“I guess you wouldn’t. Can’t keep a secret for long.” 

“It’s not about keeping secrets, it’s about being trustworthy. That’s the only way this can work. The only way I will let this work. This is my project. She is under my control. My – my protection.” I took a deep breath. “I can work with her. That’s why I wanted to call and confirm that do use those… Methods on her are not to be considered. That I can do this on my own. That she doesn’t need to be subjected to these things, if we work together. No psychologists, no poking and prodding. No security cameras looking at her every move. Just her and I. And you’ll get your Project Irongate fulfilled.” 

“An entire team of scientists, and you want to take control of all of this by yourself.” He tutted. “Jen, I feel like you might be putting too much on yourself. You’re ignoring all of the other coworkers you got on your roster. All of your… Little friends. When’s the last time you talked to Jesse?” 

“We’re not on speaking terms, sir.” And maybe never would be, if he never bothered to answer my emails.

“All of this work, trying to make her manifest on her own. She hasn’t for the entirety of her life, in any capacity. Unless it was stress. And that was twice, and you orchestrated one of them. Don’t you see that it’s the only way here? We have a road paved out for us ready to go, and you’re refusing to just pilot the bus and get us there.” 

“We don’t need to force her.” 

“It wouldn’t be forcing her if she agreed. You know she wants these powers, Jen. Anyone would. Whether it would be to escape this facility, or make their own thing, or hell, even the power trip. Can you imagine being able to change the fabric of reality? I’d kill for that. I’m fine with the girl developing a god complex. Well, honestly, I don’t really care. I’m just happy she’s happy. It means this project gets done and we can finally get going. We can all get what we need done. I don’t have to keep waiting any longer. And neither do you. But you’re the only one not happy here, Jen. Why aren’t you happy?” 

“I don’t want to torture a child.”

“Then get someone else to do it.” 

“No. She – she doesn’t trust anyone else.” 

“Then swallow your pride and torture the damn kid! Stop mothering her!” He growled. As I felt my heart pumping out of my chest, I heard him laughing at something I couldn’t hear on the other line. “Oh, Arlene, no, it’s alright. Just a problem with one of the facility managers. Yeah, it’s alright. Go run along with Erica, I’ll see you two in just a moment.” With a soft chuckle, his voice got closer to the phone again. His tone dropped. “Alright. So you’re only going to go for this is if we do it the long way around. It’s a bullshit attempt at taking the high ground, but you’re not springing for anything else. Fine. I’ll give you a while to figure out that this is fruitless. But I promise you. I know this kid.” No he didn’t. “I know the type. I know she’d agree to whatever it took for that limitless power. And she doesn’t even know what that means. We’re at the perfect point to have her help us, with her limited imagination on our side. And you’re strangling it. I expected more from you, Jen.” 

“Wait – you’re okaying it? The practices? Doing this morally?”

“Moral, immoral, I don’t care. You’re not seeing sense, so I’ll just have to wait. Whatever. Delete this number, I’ll send you the next one.” 

“No, Mr. Laurent, sir – “ The line went dead. 

I sat back in my chair, and grimaced at the fish looking my way.

Dahlia was safe.

….

Dahlia pressed her palm against the tank, then pressed Remmy’s paw on the other side. Her eyes trained on the softly lilted movements of the mermaid’s tail that flowed alongside the soft current from the filter. Slowly, back and forth, matching the movements of the underwater plants below. The bright red tail flicked, then moved down lower until the mermaid’s shoulders brushed up against the glass, her massive blue eyes pressed as close as they could get to the child. Bulbous, abnormally wide, they drank in the child’s features. Her webbed, scaled claws pressed back against the glass where Dahlia’s hand and Remmy’s paw were. Vibrant blonde hair flowed over the fines and scales that lined the side of her face and carefully covered the holes that were her ears, a red sheen of scales seeming to match the warm brown skin of her face. The gills on her neck flinched in, then out slowly, as if sighing. Then she smiled, revealing a massive row of pointed teeth, the meat from breakfast still stuck between them. Dahlia didn’t flinch. The whole face of the creature seemed to sour, the eyebrow ridges furrowing. Sullenly, she flicked her tail again and swam in circles in front of the girl, who never ceased to watch her. The flukes of the mermaid’s tail flowed like deflated rubber, like those documentaries you’d see about killer whales in captivity. They flipflopped over the glorious red scales of the tail proper as she swum around like a neglected child, before she settled once more in front of Dahlia. This time she was kneeling on the bottom of the tank, grabbing the tiny rocks that littered the fake ocean floor, and throwing them at the girl’s face. The specially tempered glass didn’t even get a scratch. Dahlia refused to move. 

The other three specimens in this tank watched from the far side. One male and two females, none of which wanted to deal with the alpha screaming at them again. Dahlia didn’t seem to care for those ones, either. It was nothing more than a cursory glance in the direction of the others, a quiet mutter of “coward”, and then a face off again with the alpha that had orchestrated all of the problems the merfolk sector ever had. A challenge was the one thing she didn’t back down from.

“Dahlia,” I called over from the desk that had been brought into the room, and reshuffled the papers in front of me. “Do you want to try looking through a few possible exercises yet?”

“Not yet.” She narrowed her eyes at the mermaid. The beautiful creature pouted, then spit out a piece of fish from between her teeth. She looked at Dahlia a moment longer, turned her gaze back to the others hiding in the corner, then an idea seemed to strike her. 

She propelled herself to the other side of the tank, much to my associate’s chagrin. 

“Where’s she going?” 

“Probably to find other ways to bother you.” 

“Why?” 

“The way you’re looking at her isn’t helping, you know.” Smiling faintly, I waved Dahlia back over to me and sighed in relief when she obeyed. She looked better now, eating normally, sleeping at the right times, and willing to leave the room. The obedience was striking, but I tried not to read too much into it. I was just happy she called me by name. “Do you want another vampire situation?” 

“They don’t have telepathy. They’re just… Creatures. Not magical, or anything. It’s not like they’re capable of doing anything more than being a gloried fish.” 

“Perhaps,” I said uncertainly. “I don’t know that much about them. They’re more of a pet project around here. Half the time I think that people just want an exotic fish tank.” I watched as the alpha mermaid wrenched the male away from his hiding place behind a bed of coral and dragged the scarred and frightened creature back to the front, only to deflate when she realized Dahlia was gone. The male looked like he could have been screaming under the water, his jagged mouth stretched into an o and his thin, emaciated form desperately reaching back to grab a piece of seaweed. The dull yellow of his tail intertwined with the thick red one of the alpha as she seemed to grow tired of him, then slammed him against the glass wall of the aquarium to shut him up. The dark, scaled skin stretched over his body was thick with scar tissue from fights just like this one. He went silent, going motionless in the alpha’s arms and closing his eyes to wait for her to grow tired of him. 

I watched with a faint shiver going up my spine, then looked over to see if any of the staff had noticed. 

A single security guard on duty took a bite out of his bagel, sighed, then knocked on the aquarium wall to get the alpha’s attention. When she looked at him, he briefly pointed to the electric prod hanging on the wall, then gave her a look.

Snarling, she let the male go and went back to drifting listlessly in the cage. She kept turning her eyes back to Dahlia. Waiting for her return. I was relieved that my associated simply watched the alpha, decided not to be interested, and turned back to me. 

“Why is she acting like that?”

“She’s the alpha of the group. Tensions are high due to captivity, or so it appears. Really, I’m not sure.” 

“Aren’t the males supposed to be the alpha? Like wolves?” She wrinkled her nose at the hapless male.

“Southern species are female dominated, I believe. Something about their ability to control the young.” I took a bite out of one of the muffins in front of us, and shrugged. Dahlia grabbed a chocolate chip one and began to slowly and meticulously pull out the half-melted pieces of chocolate, lying them beside the wrapper she’d torn to shreds. “I’m not an expert, I just hear things from the other researchers. This place is pretty popular.” I motioned to the other staff on break by the aquarium, some enjoying their lunch, others reading a book and listening to the quiet noise of the filter at work. The illumination of the water from the lamps above caused a dappling effect on the otherwise brightly lit room. It gave the illusion of relaxing on the sea floor, a notion that seemed popular to many. Us and the rest of the research group were separated from the tank itself, thanks to a couple strings being pulled on my part. This side of the aquarium was silent, but for the filter. 

“Why?” Asked Dahlia.

“It’s calming to other people. Do you find it calming?” 

She shrugged, and pulled out another chocolate chip. “The filter makes noise.” 

I sighed. “Next time, you can suggest the room, then.”

She pulled out another chocolate chip. I watched her place it down carefully, and listlessly dropped my head. I was already thinking of different possibilities when she spoke up again. “It’s not terrible,” she finally said. 

“Really?” I straightened.

“I guess the water is okay.” I quickly reshuffled the papers again and tried to hide a smile.

“Well, we can always change rooms again later. We could try somewhere quieter next time. I had a theory that perhaps different changes in scenery could cause different affects in your manifestations of power, or something along those lines. Do you want to talk about some possible working exercises now?” 

“I guess.” She made a face when pulling out another chocolate chip made half the muffin come with it.

“Alright, so we’ve talked about the different ways your power seems to manifest, the pain, suffering, all very negative emotions, right?”

“I guess.” I pushed the papers forward. She gave them a side long glance, then went back to her muffin. 

“This is a questionnaire and a practice exercise to try meditation. It seems that when you’re feeling a strong emotion, something happens.” 

“I don’t have emotions.” 

“The human you, doesn’t. The editor you, does. I think.” 

“What makes you say that?” 

“Look,” I nudged the other folder towards her and began to slowly flip through it. She may have looked as though she were focused on her muffin, but her eyes still trailed back towards the pictures and subheadings of the different incidents. All of the hard work on cataloguing the incidents had paid off. I smiled, but I couldn’t find myself able to look at the pictures for long. Dahlia was never happy in any of those instances. All it did was hurt. “Here’s every instance that we have recorded of with you manifesting your power. The second one was when you were pulled away from your mother. The third was with the vampires.”

“What was the first?” She reached over and pushed the papers back. “… Oh. Charlie.” I winced. 

“It’s the same thing,” I tried to argue. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“No it’s not.” 

“Overwhelming emotion?” 

“No. I wasn’t hurt when Charlie died. But I fell into the stones with Mom took me away. And the vampire was hurting my brain the other time.” 

I paused. 

“Alright. So…” I bit my lip. She was already getting towards the conversation we’d been avoiding. One I wasn’t about to have now. “Any kind of overwhelming emotion. Pain or otherwise. But… Pain of a sort, regardless. We’ll have to transform that into something else.” 

“I guess.” She went back to her muffin. 

“That’s why I was suggesting the meditation,” I continued quickly. “The meditation should allow you an opportunity to explore the idea of emotions. I know you don’t feel them – not like others – right now, at least, but there might be a way to get in touch with your editor side if you use meditation as a different kind of conduit, instead of just letting something dictate how you feel. Whether it’s physically intense pain, or emotionally intense.” 

“I don’t know how to meditate.”

“We have some ways of helping with that. Sensory deprivation was what I was looking into.” I showed her a picture of the pod on my laptop, and she frowned. 

“That looks weird.” 

“It’s kind of alien looking, but it might help. It would certainly allow us to try something. And if it works, then.” I smiled. “Well, then we won’t have to worry at all about it.”

“It doesn’t sound like it’ll work,” she said. 

“Why not? I’ve hear good things about meditation getting you in touch with a deeper calm and unlocking the psyche.” 

“That sounds stupid. And I don’t feel emotion. And if I’m all calm like that, then isn’t that the opposite of what we need? All of those editor powers came out when I was upset or mad. That’s how it’s always been. We’re not going to get anywhere with meditation.” She bit her lip as she looked for the last of the chocolate chips. “Maybe we should try something else.” 

“Like what? A different form of meditation?” 

“Pain.” 

“Dahlia.” 

“It could work.” 

“Dahlia, no.” I pulled the papers back, leaving her the questionnaire and meditation techniques. I tried to ignore the shaking in my arms. Even now, I couldn’t believe those things coming out of her mouth. “That is not something we’re even going to entertain, okay? I’m not hurting you for this.” 

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know why you won’t agree. It’s everything you want, isn’t it?” No. “You’ll get to have all the power you want. It’ll be easy.” If it weren’t for the monotone, she would have sounded too much like Laurent. “All you have to do is set up something that hurts me but won’t kill me. It’s just pain, or something. I wouldn’t fight back or anything. And then I’d have my powers.” She nudged Remmy forward on the table, almost earnestly. “And you’d get what you wanted, right?” She asked. “Right?”

She’d never… Wanted things, before. “Dahlia.” I took a deep breath. “I know it sounds good on paper. Like we’ll get everything we want. But think about this. Do you remember the vampires? That whole incident?” I tried to sound logical.

“Of course I do, I was there.” 

“No, do you remember what happened in that moment right after, when you released your power? Do you even have any memory of what you did?”

Dahlia ate a chocolate chip. 

I sighed. “No. You don’t. Because that power came from anger. It was impossible to temper. It couldn’t be harnessed. It almost destroyed the failsafes and let out some of our more dangerous specimens. It scared the man. It made… It made me afraid that I would lose you. Do you get it now? We can’t go down that route because if we do, people will get hurt. Not just you, but lots of people. And maybe that’s something we can deal with. But… I can’t bring myself to hurt you.”

“I don’t know why. I’m just a specimen.” 

“Associate.” 

“Specimen.”

“Associate, Dahlia.” 

“I’m a little girl, I can’t be associated with anything yet.” 

I pressed my fingers against my temples and watched Dahlia eat another chocolate chip. “Okay. We don’t have to argue about this right now. But just think about the meditation, okay? I have a big mean boss who wants me to have the end of the world all front and center and I’m here just trying to make sure that no one is going to die because I release Armageddon. You don’t want Armageddon do you?” 

“What’s arma getton?” 

“Nevermind. Moving on.” 

“No, what is it?”

“The end of the world,” I resigned. 

“I wouldn’t cause the end of the world, because I’d be volunteering for it. Right?” I gave her a long, hard look.

“Dahlia, do you really think you can control yourself in unimaginable pain?” She pursed her lips, then went quiet and instead reached over for the questions. Her mouth turned into a deeper frown as she grabbed the nearest ballpoint pen, then began to circle the answers on the sheet. I risked leaning over to see the answers, but she pushed her chair out. 

“So what’s this supposed to help me with?” She asked. 

“With finding a way to fine tune different aspects of your life. We’re looking for ways to exploit emotion, to look deeper within yourself, and to understand what is linked to what. Your powers are emotional. Incredibly emotional…” I frowned. “And it makes me… Wonder.” 

“Wonder what?” 

“Why you don’t express yourself the way others do.” 

“I’m a psychopath because I’m an editor?” 

“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “I can’t tell you something like that.” 

“No one can.” She chewed on the edge of the pen, then circled another answer. For a long moment, I thought she was going to fight back. She paused with the pen, tapping at an answer, and furrowed her brows. I bit my lip.

“If we’re not going to try to use pain because it’s too dangerous, then… I guess I could try meditation.” 

“Would you?” My fingers gripped the edge of the desk tighter.

“Not for you.” She frowned. “For me. I’m doing all of this for me. It gets you what you want, but I want something too.” 

“I already told you, Dahlia. Anything you want, anything at all. I’ll get it for you.” I tried to reach over and brush her arm, but she pulled away and pushed Remmy in front of her for good measure. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

I sighed. “Sorry.” 

“It’s not something that you can just give me,” she continued reluctantly, slowly turning her gaze back towards the papers. The alpha mermaid was swimming in circles behind her, desperately smacking against the heavy glass. Her arms bulged with muscle, punching again and again. Her knuckles were scarred from previous attempts, but this didn’t seem to phase her. She wouldn’t have stopped, if not for the guard giving her the eye again. 

This time creature sagged her shoulders at the threat, then sank to the bottom of the tank. The flukes on her tail seemed to sag further than before. 

“It’s about what I can do,” Dahlia finished. “What I can accomplish. I don’t have anything.” She pushed the finished papers back towards me. “I’m just a kid.” Her eyes narrowed. “I can’t do anything. I’m stuck in that room, unless I listen to you.” 

“No you’re not,” I tried to reason. “We could go out any time. I had to drag you out before, remember?” 

“Jennifer.” She tucked Remmy to the side and leaned forward, paused, then jammed a handful of chocolate chips in her mouth. “You made me come here. There was no way I wouldn’t be stuck here. You made my mother leave me here.” The spite had returned, and my heartbeat quickened. I was already preparing a list of apologies in my head, but she waved them all away. “You made me do whatever you wanted me to do. I’m a specimen. So if I want to do what I want, then I have to listen. Right?” She was daring me to agree. 

I nodded numbly. 

“Right,” she said again, her voice hollow, colder than before. If that was possible. “So, I do what you want. And then I get to do what I want.” 

“What do you want?” I asked. 

“Freedom,” she muttered. “And things. Things that I can surround myself with. I don’t really care.” All at once, she seemed to deflate, falling back against the chair and shoving the remainder of the chocolate chips in her mouth. “I just want things.” 

“What kind of things?” 

“I don’t know, things. Things kids want.” She rolled her eyes. “You know. Pizza. The beach. Chocolate. Video games. Dolls.” 

“Things other kids want,” I confirmed. I watched her closely. She looked at me, with that same empty gaze. When I tried to probe closer, I couldn’t see anything there. She watched me back, unblinking. Unwavering. Frowning. I bit my lip. “But what do you want?” 

Dahlia looked hard at her deconstructed muffin. She pushed the rest of it to the side, then pulled Remmy into her lap. She pulled the stuffed cat up by his hands and held them there. It was though she were beginning to dance with him, but she’d forgotten the steps. He hung there in the air for far too long, before she seemed to recall what she meant to say, and let him fall. “… Remember when I told you I tried to smile?”

“Yes.” I grimaced. “I remember.” 

“Do you think, if I was an editor, I’d know what smiling felt like?” She looked up at me with nothing but pure curiosity in her eyes. No sadness, no guilt, nothing. Just… confusion. “Do you think I’d know what it feels like to lose my mother? Or Charlie?” 

“I… I don’t know,” I muttered. I grabbed the pages she’d pushed back to me, but I couldn’t seem to formulate what to say. “Your powers are emotionally based, so I’d suppose… Yes. Maybe. It could be.” 

She nodded to herself, and placed Remmy in her arms. “Emotions are stupid,” she said. “They’re annoying, they get in the way, and they make the world more complicated than it has to be. But…” She looked at her hands, then up to me. “I don’t want anything. I don’t care. And I… I wonder what it would be like. To care. To think like that. It seems stupid – “ she broke – “Not logical, not really what I think I should do. Most of the time I think I’m not thinking right.” She looked over the incident report, then pointed to the page indicating the vampire report. “But that. I remember that.” 

“The anger.” 

“The pain. I remember it. I remember feeling like that. There was something.” She furrowed her brows. “I try to think back on it now, and it’s hard. But it was there.” 

“I know,” I murmured. “I could see it. It was there when you woke up, when we talked… There could be a way to get it out, Dahlia. For good.” 

She shrugged. “Then that’s why I’ll bother listening to you.” She paused. “And all the stuff I could have. With, you know, the meditation. And stuff.” 

I had to resist reaching out to her again, so I settled for the faintest smile. “We’ll work together, then. My associate.” 

“Specimen,” she muttered. She turned back to watch the mermaid, and frowned. “But I don’t want to work here. The fish woman is stupid.” The creature throw a half-hearted rock in Dahlia’s direction, but all the girl did was raise an eyebrow, then throw Remmy back at the tank. Her mouth twitched when the mermaid flinched.


	15. Chapter 15

Dahlia

1, 2, 3. Open your mouth. 1, 2, 3, close and breathe out through your nose. 1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3. 

1, 2, 3. 

I opened my eyes, and frowned.

It had been days of counting. Days of staring at a wall in my room and waiting for something to happen.

The cameras were gone. I was left alone, in silence. But the pager she’d given me to call her in times of need was still somehow lit up like a Christmas tree. Minutes of long pauses as I struggled to think of what to say to her. Then quietly reminding her that I was still here, in case she’d forgotten, and letting the message go. I kept it in the corner of my room, watching and waiting to get a response that wasn’t the same message of patience. I was sick of counting. Sick of waiting. 

She’d always tell that I needed to be patient. That she was working on getting the deprivation chamber moved to the testing room so we could have everything safely recorded, that she was stream-lining the testing procedures with other maintenance and recorders working under her, making sure that the steps of the experiment were clear, concise, and packed with failsafes. She had to let everyone know. There was paperwork to fill out. People to notify. Emails to send. And in the mean time, I had to sit put. Staring at my room. Knowing this probably wasn’t going to work. And counting. 

1, 2, 3. Breathe through your nose.

So many excuses. Here I was, more than prepared. Waiting. Watching. And she was the one that wasn’t prepared. It was stupid. What else had she been doing all this time, then, if not waiting for me? 

That’s what all of this had been for in the first place. This is what I was here to do. 

I’d looked through the papers she’d given me. Exercise after exercise that always ended up with me staring at the inside of my eyelids for far too long. It was almost interesting, how she managed to use meditation to make the time move even more slowly than before. I didn’t think it was possible. 

It’d gotten to the point that I would have preferred to throw paper towels around the bathroom again. 

I placed Remmy on the bed once, when I’d had enough. It had been two days. If I was going to stay trapped in this stupid room with its four boring walls, then I might as well try my own experiment, and see what worked. These papers hadn’t taught me anything, anyways. 

I tried to imagine what he looked like before. Green. Glowing. I closed my eyes tightly for a few seconds, then opened them wide to look at him from across the bed, narrowing them a moment later. I could almost imagine that I could see it. I tried it again, and again, and again. 

1, 2, 3. Open your eyes. I kept looking for something that wasn’t there, willing it to exist. Willing myself to be able to see colors again.

But that was stupid. I knew that I hadn’t. All I was seeing was the little particles in my eyes from staring at bright lights for too long. Remmy was still staring back at me with that stitched cat mouth and those button eyes, lilting to the side and waiting for something to happen. I was, too. Every time I thought of Jennifer’s ideas, I felt like it was stupider and stupider. All of this was dumb, and she never seemed to stop and consider it. Nothing was happening by just counting and waiting down the hours until she was finally ready for me. Meditation had done nothing but grated on my nerves. There was nothing to gain from it, except for maybe her own happiness. She was trying to assuage her own nerves. 

I looked in her eyes when I told her I could handle something worse, and I saw fear. It was annoying. She was afraid of the idea. Maybe, deep down, she had to know that meditation was doing less than nothing. A lack of emotion was just going to make me feel the same way I had before. There was nothing there. 

I was getting nowhere, thanks to her. There was no way I’d be able to get out of here and do what I wanted if she kept pushing me towards dead ends. All because she was afraid of hurting me. 

I tried to think about getting mad. I tried to focus on those forgotten memories. It was hard. I could remember what it had felt like before. That sudden surge of something I couldn’t explain. I could even recall the feeling of pain when I’d been thrown to the ground against the pebbles. But when I probed further, I began to realize something curious. They were someone else’s memories. It was as though I were trying to bridge the gap between someone else’s eyes, pulling through to the other side. That hadn’t been me, yelling and screaming at the vampire, daring it to try and attack me. That hadn’t been me, looking through my own eyes and seeing the way the world seemed to shift under my touch. Those colors had existed, certainly. But that wasn’t me who saw them. 

I opened my eyes and stared, dumbfounded at the wall in front of me. If that wasn’t me, then the question became obvious. It burned in my mind, but I didn’t think Jennifer would have the answer. I’m not sure anyone would. I was supposed to know the answers here. I was supposed to be the God. I was the one with the powers. At the very least, I could be the one to tell everyone else how it worked. So then, if I didn’t know, who did? 

The fact that the memories weren’t mine should have made me mad. I wanted them to. I kept waiting for them to upset me. That I couldn’t even have that. 

But it was quiet, in my room. There were no security cameras. No whirring machines. Remmy never said a word. Nothing changed. 

I poked Remmy’s arm, and watching him tilt to the side. His smile was the same as always. Maybe, if I squinted really hard, I could imagine him frowning. But of course, there was nothing there. And I knew that. I was stupid for pretending there ever could be.

I sat back against the bed with a sigh, and pushed the meditation papers off the bed. They were better off there, anyways. Then I pulled Remmy up into my arms again, and hugged him. 

It was quiet, in my room.

I waited silently, for a sound. Any little annoying sound that would have driven my mind away from my thoughts. There was nothing, and I supposed that was my fault.

“I don’t think she understands,” I said to Remmy. The sound of my own voice was strange. I’d never talked by myself. I’d never seen the need. And I’d certainly never talked to Remmy. It felt curious, to look into those eyes and wait for words that I knew would never come. All I had for company was a button face, and echoes of the words I’d said moments ago that no one would ever hear. There was no point in speaking, then. To talk to something that wasn’t real, was stupid. Just like most things. 

That person that had yelled, and screamed, and cried, she was childish. I tried to remember what she sounded like, but I couldn’t quite place it. I wondered if she was someone that thought she was better than me. 

I wondered if she was better than me, if she could use the powers I wanted so much.

Maybe childish things were the answer. 

“Do you think it makes any sense? I don’t think this is working.” I asked the doll. Remmy’s head fell back when I shook him. “Maybe Jennifer will see it eventually, too. This is all stupid. And she’s just using me anyways, right? In the end, the goal is just getting what she wants. What we both want.” Remmy was just a doll. 

“But I’m using her, too. I don’t have to stay here forever. As soon as I get those powers, I can leave when I want. And then I can be in charge. And that other girl, with those other memories, those will be mine. And I won’t have to worry that someone else is inside my head. And when I leave with my powers, then I can do whatever I want to.” I thoughtfully pet his overly large head, then turned my gaze up toward the ceiling. “Maybe I’ll go back to mom, and show her how wrong she was.” I paused. “Mom doesn’t like me. And there’s no reason to go back. She let me leave the house with them. I don’t really know if she’s my mom anymore. So maybe I’ll just…” I paused again. “Walk around. What do you think?” 

Remmy didn’t think anything. 

Frustrated, I pushed him to the side and curled up on the bed. “This is stupid,” I said. “You don’t have anything to say. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I pressed my cheek against the pillow and stared at the wall. “It’s Jennifer’s fault. She should just listen to me. She’s doing what she said she wouldn’t do. So now I’m stuck here, talking to a toy and waiting for nothing to come out of this whole experiment. It’s dumb.” 

I poked the wall. “Dumb.” 

A few minutes later, I closed my eyes, and listened to the growing roaring of blood in my ears. The only sound there was. Soothing. “There’s nothing to want, is there,” I finally said, not expecting an answer, nor getting one. “Nothing I care about. Maybe I want people to listen to me. I could have people doing whatever I want. I could be in charge of everything. In charge of Jennifer. I could make her do what I want.” I thoughtfully watched the inside of my eyelids. “But she already does what I want. But then what’s the point of powers?”

Remmy had fallen off the bed completely and landed by the papers I’d let fall. I didn’t bother trying to pick him up. 

I closed my eyes again, and tried for the hundredth time to do the same futile meditation.

1, 2, 3. Open your mouth. 1, 2, 3, close, and breathe out through your nose. 1, 2, 3. 

It was too easy to fall asleep. 

I thought it would be better with other people, but then I forgot how much I disliked being surrounded by them. The testing facility was full of machinery workers in overalls, mechanics in jumpsuits and those same labcoats the next day. Maintenance walked between each other with sharp calls for last minute checkups, laughing and sharing in the small table of doughnuts at the side of the enormous testing room. Above us was the window, holding even more of them. Those labcoats walked back and forth with clipboards, constantly chattering over the loudspeaker, and nervously twittered between each other like birds worried about an oncoming storm. None of them looked particularly excited. Just nervous. 

I got more than a few looks back at me. Some wary, some searching for approval as they set up the tank they’d worked so hard to bring into the main room. I kept my lips firmly closed, unless I was chewing on the doughnut pieces I’d taken from the table. Each chocolate sprinkle I picked off went into my mouth, with a bit of icing that followed with it. The rest of the doughnut sat on a napkin, on the floor. I waited on my plastic stool and watched the nervous procession with Remmy in my lap as Jennifer tried to direct them. She was just as nervous as the rest of them, but there was a smile on her face. A nervous smile, with bags under her eyes and a tic she’d started to develop with her hand, subtly tapping her thigh when she got too anxious. But she thought this was going to work. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here.

I shrugged, and turned to Remmy, then nodded his head in agreement. I’d talked to her about how this wouldn’t work, but we’d gone too far to back down now. That’s what she kept saying. 

She chatted with a few of last minute workers, laughed quickly at one she seemed to recognize, but then she turned back to the main doors when she heard them open. Probably expecting a recorder that had gotten lost on the way to the observation deck. But then her face fell, and I watched in curiosity as her shoulders sagged along with her, her eyes quivered, and her legs lost some of the weight they’d been holding. 

The man had brown, curly hair, a pair of glasses half on his face, and two cups of coffee in his hands from a shop I didn’t recognize. He stiffened when he saw the crowd, then went completely rigid when Jennifer began striding over to him. I quickly slipped off the chair, thrusting an arm around Remmy and following the two of them before they could disappear. I caught the man trying to whisper something by her ear, but she shook her head as fast as she could and refused the coffee he tried to push into her hands. No one else seemed to notice how his eyes fell, he shrugged in his overly large sweater, and turned to go. No one else seemed to notice when she grabbed the arm of his sleeve to keep him there. 

“You can’t just run off again!” Jennifer yelled. It was lost among the shuffle of voices. 

“Listen, I didn’t realize you were busy, alright? It’s fine. I’ll come back later. How long is this gonna take, a couple hours? I got a couple hours. I’ll just come back or something.” He nervously glanced at the clock above the observation deck. Lying. I knew what that sounded like.

“You don’t respond to my emails for months and you show up now in the middle of a project – I’m not letting you go, Jess. Just talk to me. What happened? Where were you?” 

I tugged Jennifer’s blouse and looked between them.

“Who’s that?” I asked. 

“I-“ She faltered, then tried to smile. “This is Jesse. He’s a colleague. My first colleague.” I raised an eyebrow. 

“This is Jesse just leaving,” the man’s voice was curt as he finally pulled his arm away from Jennifer’s, just barely keeping the coffee stable. “I didn’t realize you were in the middle of… This. Sorry. Bad, really bad timing.” He looked down at me with strange eyes, a mixture between apprehension and pity. I stared him down, and watched as any expression he might have had turned to fear. He turned away quickly, and tried to take a step back as he spoke to Jennifer, but she closed the gap he was trying to make. 

The tango of moving bodies wrapped neatly around the flow of maintenance worker traffic. 

“Listen,” he said, “I didn’t realize that this was going on. I haven’t been checking my emails, I’ve been busy, but we can talk about this later, okay? Not when you’re with the kid.” 

“She’s harmless, Jesse,” Jennifer spoke dismissively. “But this doesn’t make any sense. I thought you were on the project – I even emailed you, discussing that you were to come here for the initial experiment. I got it okayed, and it’s ethical, and we’re going to make real headway here… Didn’t you see that?”

“I… No.” He awkwardly juggled for words. “I missed it. Do you want the coffee?” 

“Jesse.” 

“You might want the coffee, I’m just saying. No offense or anything, but you look like shit.” He laughed like he was telling a joke that two people might get, but Jennifer flinched. He tried to continue: “I mean, I know I look like shit. Right?”

“Sure. Okay.” Her finger tapped against her thigh. “Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t need your peace coffee. Please. If you’re here to apologize, it’s okay.” She softened her smile, and for a moment, the tapping stopped. 

But it was begging, and it looked like he was finished with it. The back of Jennifer’s pocket buzzed, but she didn’t seem to notice. “You can fall in again, here,” she added. “We got time.” 

“No, that’s… That’s the thing.” He looked between the two of us, then breathed through his teeth. “Can’t we just talk about this in the security room? That’d make it a hell of a lot easier. I don’t want to make a scene. I just wanted to make this quick.” 

“Jesse, you’re scaring me here,” Jennifer tried to laugh. “Come on, it’s not that big of a deal, is it? I won’t write you up or anything for missing a few emails. We’re friends.” Jesse’s face fell.

“Jen.” She turned back to me without seeming to realize him.

“I know Dahlia’s a little scary looking at first to some people,” she said as she tried to pet my shoulder. I moved out of the way. Her pocket was still buzzing. She still didn’t notice. “She’s quite nice. She’s just a different sort of person, but then everybody is. We’ve been working together – like how I wanted it to be from the beginning. No secrets, no invasions of privacy. She and I have our differences, but we’ve been doing great. We’ve been making headway, you know. All of this work led to what we’re doing today – I explained it in the email, but it’s an attempt to get a long lasting manifesting of power. Did you hear what happened before? She manifested her powers, in the facility! It was crazy, but it’s a leap forward, and now there’s so much planning, so much we still don’t know, but with you we might be able to get there even faster and –“

“Jennifer,” Jesse prodded. “That’s great and all, and yeah, I’m really happy for you. But I just… I can’t. Fuck, I can’t do this. Jen, can we talk in the security room?” He gestured with his head, his eyes wide, hands full of coffee. “Please?” 

“I… I can’t leave, Jesse. We’re about to start.” 

“Jennifer, please,” he warned. “You don’t look great. It would be better if we just talked. Alone.”

“Jesse, you’re not giving me anything here. It can’t be that bad. What, did you get kicked out of your position? Just tell me. I can get you reinstated, don’t worry. I got your back.” The pocket was still buzzing. I licked the last of the chocolate icing off of my fingers, put Remmy under arm, and moved closer.

“Forget it,” he sighed. “Nevermind. Jen, I’m not even sure if I’m going to have the time after this. My flight leaves tonight and I have to get going sooner rather than later.” 

“Flight? What are you talking about?” She grabbed me by the shoulder again, and I froze. This time, I wasn’t fast enough. I had to deal with her fingers digging into my shirt. I tried to pull away, but she didn’t seem to realize what she was doing. Her grip was too strong. 

“I just came here to say goodbye,” he murmured. “That’s all. I just wanted to do it, face to face. I’d blacklisted your emails, and I didn’t want to be that ass that never said anything before they left. I didn’t know.” 

“Goodbye? Jesse, what are you saying?” She laughed in disbelief. “You’re still on the project. There’s been no layoffs, I’m in charge of the work and I’d never let them transfer you. If they did anything, I could put you back in. You’re safe – we can work something out. I bet Laurent just made a mistake or something. We have a job to do here. We started this, together.” Finally, the phone vibrated enough in her back pocket that she couldn’t ignore it any longer. She tried to grab it, but it slipped out of her hands and fell on Remmy’s head, then the floor, before she could get a hold of it. I picked it up instead. 

“Jen, I didn’t get laid off or transferred, I quit. This was my doing. I blacklisted it. All of it.” She turned back around like a whip.

“What are you talking about?” She exclaimed. “What- I – What?!”

“I went above you to the branch manager in New York, and I asked to be transferred. I didn’t get laid off, I didn’t go through some kind of spiral. I blocked you. Maybe because I was a coward.” He set his coffee cups down by the doughnuts. His hands were shaking. “I just wanted to talk about this in private because I worried you’d cause a scene. I think something’s wrong with… With you, Jen.” 

“You can’t be leaving, Jess! What happened to the team!”

“And you’re already hysterical.” Jesse sighed, and glanced at the growing worried faces. Despite the noise from the last touches of prep, she’d still attracted a lot of attention. “Okay. Just breathe. Please. You’re not letting this go, so I just wanted to let you know in person that I chose to leave. And I’m being transferred to Sweden. Of my own volition. Hear it’s nice there. And I don’t want to upset you or make you feel like I’m being an asshole but yeah, I do feel like I’m being an asshole right now. I probably am. I just… How was I supposed to reach you when you’ve been in the pits of…” He gestured around himself. “This? I can’t reach you for a heart to heart. And by the time you got back I wasn’t even sure if I should! I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” 

The phone was old and covered with finger prints. There was a crack down the screen, large enough that I was worried I’d slice my finger if I played with it. I pressed the button on.

“Jesse, you can’t. I don’t know what I did wrong,” she stammered. “But you can’t just – the experiment is starting now. We could work on it now. Together. You could cancel your flight. You’re my friend, you can’t just up and leave.” She grimaced. “We can do this together.” 

“Jen,” he murmured. “You made up your mind when you chose to go after Dahlia yourself. Your obsession is wrong. This is wrong. It’s gotten worse and now I’m looking at you and I’m seeing that it’s just gonna keep going. Look at yourself, Jen. Seriously.”

“I did- I’m just tired – I promise-”

“And beyond that, you just up and left me to do some stupid background checking and just fucking went nuts over this entire thing, pushing yourself in the way when all it’s doing is destroying you. And I feel like the incident with the vamps was more than enough to prove that shit’s about to hit the fan with you.” 

“Language,” I muttered. 

“Whatever. Sorry. Little girl.” 

“Dahlia,” I said.” 

“Dahlia.” He was pained. “Dahlia, I’m sorry.” 

I shrugged, not looking up from the phone. “The experiment isn’t going to work anyways.” 

“I dunno, but judging from that report, you might be right.” I looked up at him then, blinking at the man that said I was right. “That’s why I’m sorry. Because I know where this is going. I don’t want to be on the list of those responsible when it happens. Jen, you’re going too far. I’m telling you you’re on a precipice, and every step of the way up to this point, you’ve decided to jump.” 

There wasn’t a passcode on the phone, I’d realized. The one key put me to the home screen that had some ancient Greek statue set as the background. It was an amateur enough photo to believe that she’d been there and taken it herself. Probably not Greece. Jennifer didn’t have time for Greece.

“Let’s just talk about this. I’m not about to start putting Dahlia through any intensive treatment, the experiments are purely meditation based – you’d know that if you’d read the email. Just stay there, just a bit, we’ll go through the experiment and I’ll show you that it’ll be fine. That everything will be okay. We can do this. We could step in the security office if you want?”

“You’re just saying that because I asked before.”

“You don’t have to stay out here, you could watch it there. I haven’t seen you in nearly a year, Jessie. It would be nice to talk about old times, right?” She laughed. The hysteria was palpable. I tried to foucs on navigating the phone. “Right? Pizza and beer, you know, old times.” Tentatively, she reached out to him, but he shrugged it away. “I just… I don’t…” 

Jennifer’s ex wife had pretty brown skin, darker eyes, curly hair that hung up against her ears, a blinding smile, and over a thousand unread texts. I didn’t touch them, but I could see the number. The latest began with an apology. The next tab had a game she hadn’t played in the last several months. It said so on the loading screen. She hadn’t even tried to get the high scores in any of them. All she’d been doing was speedrunning the entire game to try to get to the end level. Of course she wouldn’t be able to make it that way. 

“Jennifer, seriously. You need to talk to someone. Something’s wrong with you.”

“Jesse…” 

“I’m not going to stay here when you’re off your fucking rocker. I always joked that you were crazy Jen, but this? You’re losing it. I mean it. I don’t know what the hell happened and I don’t want to know.” He sighed. “But you’re not going to believe me.”

“One test. Stay for one test. Just one.” Pleading eyes. She made my nose wrinkle with the way she talked. It was pathetic.

He wrinkled his nose, then turned to the coffee. He bit his lip. I started up Jennifer’s game and systematically began to correct her misbehaviour in the scores. “Fine,” he finally said. “If there’s any chance you’ll listen to me. You got as long as it takes for me to finish the coffee. But then I’ll need to take a piss.”

“Language,” I said again. 

“Pee,” he corrected. 

“Okay,” she hesitantly said, then slapped her hands together and smiled nervously. “Okay! We can do this. Right Dahlia? You’ve been doing your exercises, right?” 

“They don’t work,” I said. I didn’t look up, too busy playing the game. 

“They’ll work. You’ve prepared yourself for it, at least. I did a few calculations in my head and discussed it with some others and if we remove all your senses- not actually but you know- it just might work.” 

“It won’t work,” I said. “That’s not how they work. Did you tell everyone about the incident report? Or just the labcoats? Is that why they’re so nervous?”

“I know about Editors, Dahlia.” 

“I am an Editor, Jennifer.” 

“Is that my phone?” 

“You didn’t bother to get three stars in any of these levels. That’s why you couldn’t get to the final level.”

She grabbed the device out of my hand and whipped it away before I could finish pressing the button. I looked up with a glare, but stopped when I saw how wide her eyes were. Her smile wasn’t right. The tic on her thigh was ceaseless, but this time she was hitting her phone against her repeatedly. Her entire body had the faintest shake. For a moment, I just stared. Curiosity, I supposed. The man was right about her. 

“Jennifer?” I finally asked.

“Yes, Dahlia?” 

“Your wife is very pretty,” I said. I narrowed my eyes as she seemed to grow ever more rigid. Behind us, Jesse coughed out the coffee he’d been drinking.

“Don’t –“ She raised a hand, took a deep breath, and widened her smile. “Pod. Let’s do that pod now. Please. I don’t want to talk about this. Let’s do this later, okay?” She sounded like my mother. Breaking down. I’d seen it before, but never quite like this. I watched curiously as her outstretched hand shook.

“She’s got curly hair. I didn’t expect her to look like that. But she’s nice. She looked warm.” She pocketed the phone with trembling fingers and pushed me simultaneously towards the pod. I gripped Remmy like a vice, just in case she tried to take him away, but she wasn’t thinking that right now. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking. 

“Stop it, Dahlia. She’s not my wife. Come on, pod now.” 

“Ex-wife, then,” I corrected. 

“Dahlia,” her voice clenched. She was still going. People were watching. I kept looking back at her and watching how she began to break down further and further. Every step was her walking like a mechanical doll.

“She was saying she was sorry she didn’t listen to you.”

“Dahlia!” She screamed. 

The crew around us stopped, this time. 

Jennifer stood there, halfway to the pod, her chest heaving, her eyes popped and her hair askew. She panted, looking between the other maintenance workers, Jesse with his coffee stains all over his shirt, then at the faint outline of a figure at the observation deck wearing a suit and way too much hair gel. Tears appeared in her eyes, but they didn’t fall. She didn’t drop, then. She just stared, smiled, then nudged me towards the pod, and laughed like she’d said some funny joke. 

“Alright guys, let’s get this show on the road, right?” She called out. The workers shrugged, and I got into the pod with some help from an assistant in a labcoat. 

The platform that surrounded the pod was a few feet above the ground, with monitors to track heat signatures and energy that might escape from the pod signalling a manifestation of editorial power. That’s how Jen had explained it, anyway, but to me it was just a big stage for a glorified pool of salt water.

The labcoat pulled Remmy away, and when I immediately tried to grab him back, the man held it up high and quickly tried to rattle off the parameters for the third time about how I wasn’t supposed to have him. I hadn’t cared what they’d told me in the initial briefing, and I didn’t care now. 

“I don’t care,” I said. “Give me Remmy.” 

“Give her what she wants,” Jennifer added quickly with that snippy voice. Her smile was wider. “It’s alright. It should be fine, right? It’ll be fine.” 

“But it won’t be a full experience of loss of senses then,” the man tried to reason. “And it’s water in there, it’ll get wet.”

“She needs her cat, so she can have it. It won’t tarnish the experiment. And we can’t have this unethical, right” She smiled too wide. “It’s going to be fine. It’ll turn out fine.” 

“Ma’am… We can postpone this, if you’re not feeling well.” I took Remmy quickly back before the man could change his mind. 

“No, it’s fine! Everyone’s worked so hard, we can’t just stop here. Dahlia’s ready to go. And I’m feeling perfectly well, don’t worry. I’m just a little tired.” 

“Are you sure-“

“Start the experiment,” she snapped. He flinched, then turned to the instructions as I fell into the pool of illuminated water. They closed the pod’s lid just as I had settled into the proper position with Remmy on my chest and suddenly the world went dark and silent.

The wetsuit they’d stuck me into was itchy. I could feel the bottom if I changed my position, but the salt water was light enough that I didn’t have to work to keep myself afloat. I guess it was nice. It didn’t smell bad. It was quiet. I felt like I was swimming. 

But this wasn’t going to work. And Jennifer was broken. She was out there doing who knew what, and I was in here about to show her that nothing was going to happen. But I tried the numbers anyways.

1, 2, 3. Open your mouth. 1, 2, 3, close and breathe out through your nose. 1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3. 

I closed my eyes, and let the feeling of weightlessness work on me. The world ceased to exist around me, with nothing more than Remmy’s small waterlogged form rising and falling against my chest. The two of us lay in a world of nothingness like the last part of my life had never happened. 

The hour passed by like it was minutes. When the door opened and Jennifer stared down at me, I looked back at her thinking it was far too soon to get out. I was tempted to ask for more time. But that look in her eyes was enough that I knew she wasn’t going to listen right now. 

I shrugged. 

“I told you,” I said. “You should listen to me more.” 

The experiment completed with the test results negative. People packed up, headed home, and Jesse went with them. He didn’t approach either of us. I simply looked from my pool of water to see him leaving in an undignified mass exodus of scientists that had realized they’d set aside all their time for nothing.

No one pulled me out of the pod, not even the man that had tried to grab Remmy. In the end, no one seemed to care enough about the aftermath of something that had been full of nothing but failure. I was free to float long after the maintenance had left and the lights in the testing facility dimmed down to darkness. 

Jennifer sat on the platform by the pod while I swam around in the overly large bathtub. My pool was still illuminated, this soft blue glow from the lights along the sides and under the water itself. I could see just fine. But Jennifer was a shadowy lump, unmoving from where she had collapsed nearly a half hour ago. Her entire body was a doll with its strings cut. She was utterly silent.

I climbed up to the side where I had positioned Remmy as life guard and watched her. “We can try the other way now,” I said. “Can’t we?”

Jennifer slowly shook her head. I couldn’t see her face, her lanky hair hid it all. 

“Why not? It would work.” 

“Yes,” said the voice of a man behind me. “It would. And the girl has the right idea.” 

The man full of hair gel walked up the platform slowly with confident steps. His shoes shined against the dim illumination of the pod. So did his eyes. 

He stopped at the edge of the pool and peered over at me. “Well, looks like you failed there, Jen. Disappointing, really. But then, I don’t think anyone thought it would work. Not even you. What was this, death throes? This is what I talked about on the phone. I didn’t want to have you end up like this.” He smiled at me, patted Remmy’s head, then walked over to Jennifer and held out a hand to help her up. She didn’t turn her head.

“Well, I suppose you didn’t fail completely,” he continued jovially. “We still have more testing to do. There’s always more testing to do. And you’ll be here. The kid’s not going anywhere. Right? This was a step in the wrong direction, but I think you’ve corrected it now. You realize what you’ve got to do.” 

“Who are you?” I asked. 

“Henry Laurent.” He dipped his head in greeting with a winning smile. “One of those higher ups everyone likes to blame for when things go wrong in the Company. Things like this. But that’s alright. I know Jennifer can fix it.” 

“You tried to bribe her.” 

“Bribe Jen? Well, I did do her a favor with the tickets.” 

“You’ve been pushing her.” I stared at him. Water dripped down my nose. My hair was plastered to my skin, and the wetsuit was growing unbearable. But I didn’t get out of the water just yet. “Did you do that to her?” 

“Do what?” He looked down at Jennifer again and smiled. “This? No. I never did a thing. Jen, she did this to herself. This is what happens when you need to be stronger. She wasn’t. And I guess I was too confident that she would be alright.”

He knelt down to his knees, the tie on his tux coming unfolded and dangling against his thigh. 

Jennifer slowly turned her head up to meet his eyes. 

“Do you see what went wrong, Jen?”

“Emotion,” she whispered. Even if she hadn’t been crying, her voice was still hoarse. It grated on my nerves. I kicked my feet against the water. 

“Do you see what you have to do now?” He asked. 

“I can’t.” The whine of a trapped, pathetic animal escaped from her lips. “I can’t do it.” 

“Hey, little girl.” He looked over at me, and grinned. “You trust her, right?” 

I shrugged. “I know what we need to do.” 

“Do you hear her, Jen?” He flicked his eyes to me, then grinned wider. “Do you listen to her, Jen?” 

Jennifer said nothing. She’d gone silent again. Her eyes were hollow, staring off to the side.

He tried to move closer, and I stepped out of the water. I fell down onto the platform, grabbed Remmy, and fell into Jennifer with little grace. I turned to look at the gelled man curiously, still dripping. 

“Whatever happens, happens,” I said. I looked at Jennifer, then down at Remmy. I gripped him tightly against my chest. 

“I can agree to that,” the man said. He rose from the floor.

Behind me, Jennifer rose too. Her hand gripped my shoulder tightly for support, and then she was face to face with the both of us. She wasn’t there, though, I don’t think. Not really. Those eyes were very far away. She brushed the hair back away from her face and took a breath. 

She smiled serenely. “I suppose we should start the real experiments now, shouldn’t we?”


	16. Chapter 16

Jennifer 

“So, Jen,” Mr. Laurent said, crossing his legs as he sat up in the chair facing my office. “Is it done, then?” 

I closed the tab on my laptop and nodded. “Test number one begins tomorrow, and with your okay we’ll have the telepath brought into the testing facility. We shouldn’t have an issue, as long as we contain him within a properly sealed container. I’ve ordered it alongside him.”

“Great. I knew that basement would come in handy. I’m just glad he’s in one piece. Makes it a little less difficult to deal with.” 

“Thank you for being cooperative.” I sat back in the computer chair. “I apologize for my outburst, yesterday. It seems I lost the goal in mind.” 

“Oh, no need to apologize.” He edged closer, leaning in with a grin. “It’s nice to see you when you have your priorities straight. No issue with anyone trying to push their way in, anything like that?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My priority is Project Irongate, and the Company.” 

“Who knows what annoying little friends you might have squirming around and telling you things you don’t need to hear? I can’t always help keep you on the path you need to tread. It’s up to you to be accountable for your actions. And that’s not what you were like yesterday, now was it?” 

I felt my hand twitch, but ignored it and smiled instead. “These past months, I’ve been pushing myself too far in the wrong direction. Right now, we’re here to find a creature with Editorial powers. Dahlia fits that description, so that’s what we’re going to do. I can’t let personal preference get in the way of that. This is my job. You gave it to me. And I have to perform my job.” 

“That sounds all fine and well, Jen, but sometimes I worry. It was only yesterday that you were trying some useless meditation technique and wasting everyone’s time. I'm going to be dealing with that fallout for months to come.” 

“I apologize, sir. I didn’t mean to waste people’s time. Clearly, I was grasping at straws.” 

“Oh, you were,” he chuckled. “No doubt about that.” 

“Well,” I stood up. “I am not that person anymore.” 

He rose with me, his eyes narrowing. “No?”

“No.” 

“What is Dahlia to you, Jennifer?” 

“My associate. She’s an editor, and I am trying to get her to manifest her powers. By any means necessary.” 

“You know she’s a specimen, right?” 

“She’s an associate.” He gripped the edge of the desk as he leaned in closer until his nose was inches away from me. I could smell the gel in his hair. 

“You know what she is, Jen. And giving her the same level of treatment as yourself or I is only going to make tomorrow harder on you. You know that.” 

I smiled and steadied the faint shake in my hand. “I will do what I need to do. Dahlia agreed to this experiment.” 

“She doesn’t know what she agreed to. She’s a child. And you’re going to have to deal with that.” He peered earnestly at me. “Jen, I’m trying to look out for you here. I know what you’re capable of accomplishing when you put your mind to it. I know that you could do great things if you can stay with this level of pragmatism. But I also just saw what happens when I leave you to your own devices. And I have to say, it wasn’t pretty. So, listen to me when I say that she’s not going to agree to what happens next.” 

I smiled wider. “Whatever happens, happens. That’s what she said, right? Regardless of the outcome, I will do what I need to.” 

His eyes gleamed, stepping away and twirling around on his loafers. “Well, looks like you have everything handled. I’ll be there to watch the experiment tomorrow, and this time I’m sure I’ll be seeing some progress. I imagine an editor’s powers are a sight to watch. Let’s hope those failsafes hold.” 

“I will be sure to give you the progress you seek.” I nodded my head to him as he casually left my office, then slowly lowered myself back to the computer chair. My hands were shaking again. I stared at them, trying to will them to steady themselves, but it seemed no matter what I did they wouldn’t stop. 

I frowned and placed them on my desk. Something prickled at my mind, the echoes of faint thoughts that I’d elected to ignore. They were little more than nuisances.

Dahlia would be fine. 

Progress had to be made. 

Accomplishments required sacrifice. 

I wiped the tears from my eyes and resolved to go through emails to deal with any questions and concerns the staff had. 

….

“Are you ready today, Dahlia?” I asked. The two of us walked side by side down the hallway. Her room had been neat when I’d come to get her. She was dressed in a pale red shirt and overalls, with Remmy tucked in her arms. 

“I suppose,” She said. She went quiet for a moment, then looked up at me. “You don’t look right, Jennifer.”

“I don’t think I was well, before. I think I’ve spent too much time thinking about stupid things.”

Dahlia’s mouth twitched, and she turned back to staring ahead. She ran a hand over Remmy’s ears. “It’s strange,” she said. 

“What’s strange?” 

“You sound like me.” 

I smiled. “I don’t mean to scare you. I promise, there’s nothing wrong with me.” 

“I’m not scared.” 

“Good.” I drew around a corner, and she followed me without hesitation. 

“I think it’s just annoying. You’re copying me. And I’m not even supposed to be a good person. I’m a psychopath, remember?” 

“Well, the jury’s out on whether or not that’s a diagnosable illness.” 

“You’re copying me.” 

“I’m sorry if you think that I am. I don’t mean to be.” 

“And I can’t even argue with you anymore.” She sighed. 

“I’m sorry. I just want to get this done and over with today. We need to focus on getting this experiment done today, and showing progress. I don’t want the meditation incident again.” 

“Good,” she said. “I can handle it.” 

“Of course,” I smiled, and entered the testing facility. “I know you’re strong, Dahlia. You’ll be able to handle this.” 

The testing room always appeared far too large to me. Especially when this current test consisted of an augmented stationary gurney, and human sized lead box beside it, on a set of wheels. The rest of the room was empty, and overly clean. Above us, the observation deck only housed a couple scientists watching the maintenance work below, along with Laurent’s careful eye. The crane’s jig was secured to the top of the box just as we entered, wobbling for a moment as the maintenance made sure the line was secure. 

My other associates stepped aside as Dahlia walked past them. She never bothered to look their way, no matter how much they gawked at her. She was focused only on the goal in mind, and I admired that. It meant an easier experiment. She stepped on ahead to look over the gurney, the straps and the monitor beside it. Then she looked over at the box and narrowed her eyes. 

“He’s in there?” 

“We’ll be unveiling the lead mesh with the beginning of the experiment in order for the telepathy to affect you. Due to his unpredictable nature, we think he might try to unleash his powers the moment the lead is removed. The rest of us all have proper protection. I have your helmet. It’s faster to get it on than the mesh being put back.” I showed her the lead implanted helmet from the table beside the gurney as she struggled to get onto it. She plopped Remmy down beside her as she lay back, and I placed the helmet back down to get the straps around her. “But we can’t put it on you until after the experiment is completed.”

“Jennifer,” Dahlia asked, then paused. I stepped away and smiled as the maintenance continued to place down further restraints and double check my work. A doctor on standby placed the electrode monitors over her chest and stomach under her clothes with a mechanical hand.

“Yes, Dahlia?” 

“I wanted to tell you something about my powers, from before, but I wasn’t sure when would be a good time. I’m not sure you’re sane enough that it would matter.” 

“I’m perfectly sane, Dahlia.” 

“No, you’re not,” she motioned for the doctor to place Remmy on her stomach, and he complied when I nodded at him. The stuffed toy rested against her stomach with the same inane smile, button eyes shining in the harsh light of the facility. “But that’s not going to change, I guess. It doesn’t matter. I think this editor thing in me might be someone else.” 

“What do you mean?” I asked while double checking to make sure the recorder by the monitoring station was working. A small video feed of Dahlia speaking showed that the recording was starting. In the feed, she looked down at Remmy contemplatively. 

“When I get like that, it feels like someone else’s memories. I don’t know how to explain it. But if it’s not me, then I can’t be held responsible for my actions. If everything falls apart, you can’t blame me for that.” 

“Well…” I tapped a finger against my thigh and frowned. “I don’t believe that it’s truly a different person. It’s possible that the emotions are simply foreign to you. You might find yourself feeling strange, suddenly having the ability to comprehend emotions you weren’t capable of before.” I smiled. “But I don’t think it’s a bad thing if you start to care for others, do you?” 

“I don’t need emotions that are useless like that. I don’t want to be weak and crying like you were.” 

My smile fractured. “I’m sure you’ll still have control over yourself to act how you want to.” But in the case that it was an entirely different personality, it meant the issue of dealing with a noncompliant subject. That meant a more difficult issue. Not unsolvable. We were already working on failsafes that would keep editorial power in check. “We’ll keep on a lookout for any possible issues. I have everything recorded, and failsafes in place should anything happen. Are you ready?” 

The floor began to thin out as all non-required personnel left the floor. Those that remained placed on lead helmets and braced themselves for what they knew was coming. I did the same, smiling at Dahlia. 

“Jennifer?” She asked.

“What is it, Dahlia?” 

She looked over at me with no trace of fear in her voice. “What if I disappear? What if she is the one that remains in control?” 

“I don’t think you need to worry about that.” 

“I’m not worried.” She shrugged as much as she should in her restraints. “I think it would just be annoying. I’m doing this so I can do what I want. And if I can’t get to do what I want, then what’s the point of this anymore?” 

“The point of this is to continue this experiment and show results.” 

“Don’t you care about me anymore?” She asked. 

“I care about you, Dahlia. I really don’t think you have to worry about not getting to enjoy your powers. Just lie back and brace yourself.” I touched a hand over the lever. “Are you ready, now?” 

“Jennifer?” I smiled wide. 

“Yes, Dahlia?” 

“How much is this going to hurt, exactly?”

“A lot.”  
She paused, staring at the ceiling. “What does that mean?” 

“Dahlia. This is torture. Isn’t this what you signed up for?” The tapping on my thigh increased.

Dahlia sighed, then slowly nodded to herself. “It’s fine. I’m ready.” 

I pulled the lever down. 

The crane raised the lead slowly off of the ground to reveal the mobile cell inside. The cell was little more than a cage of metal bars, with a bedroll to one side that had been torn asunder ages ago. The harsh screech of lead against metal made everyone wince, including the person inside. 

The man was dressed in white. At least, it had been white once. The surgical gown that hadn’t been washed in ages was his only covering, wrinkled and ripped with the stains of blood and dirt covering his front. He cowered in the corner of his cell against the noise of the lead, his dark blue eyes wild as he looked up at the removal of the sheet. Greasy, lank black hair clung to his head and fell down past his shoulders. He shook uncontrollably as he stared around at all of us, then turned back to look at the observation deck where Laurent was watching with his nose pressed up against the screen.

Dahlia stared at the man with narrowed eyes. 

“What are you waiting for?” She asked. 

The man spoke in Croatian and tried to back further away into a corner. I looked to the handler stationed nearby the cell, and nodded. 

The man took the cattle prod from his belt and only had to shock the cell. There was nowhere for the man to run.

His screams were very human. Slavic fairies were notoriously difficult to contact, and even more difficult to capture. But this fae didn’t look that strong. His muscles had atrophied to fat. The wings he would have once had were now only faint shadows that one had to squint to see. The only thing he had left was the telepathy, the whispers that he usually used to trick forest dwellers into getting lost. Those were the myths, anyways. 

I had to remind myself that he wasn’t human again as I watched him spasm from electrical shock and vomit into the center of the cage. 

The screams only seemed to get louder as time wore on, and before long I could feel the telltale signs of a telepath trying to worm its way into my mind. The lead kept my mind relatively silent, but there was the faintest headache of something that wanted to make itself heard in all possible ways. The vaguest scream uttered at the edge of my mind, and that’s how I knew he had to be strong. To be able to get through even the lead was to be one of the best telepaths we had. The pain from something like that would have been immeasurable, and Dahlia proved that in front of us.

She convulsed at first, her eyes popping wide and her mouth growing giant and round as she struggled against the bonds that held her there. A moment later, she was screeching at the top of her lungs and the monitor was showing a heart-rate far above the norm. The blood pressure was skyrocketing, her whole body was shaking, and I had to listen to the sounds of tears through screams as the time slowly ticked on, second by second. 

I already found my teeth gritted, staring at Dahlia with my knuckles white as they clung onto to the monitor. 

“Dahlia… Please…” She couldn’t hear me. But she was taking too long. There were no powers. I was simply torturing a child. I was killing her. My legs felt weak. 

Then the lights above our heads flickered. One of them sparked and broke. 

Then another. 

Then another. 

The row of them faded after the initial sparks, and the entirety of the testing facility was bathed in darkness. The assistants nearby turned to each other in the din, but they didn’t have time to react. 

All at once, a blinding light hit us in the form of the overhead bulbs going far beyond their wattage. The others began to follow suit in split seconds, growing so bright that we couldn’t focus on anything and I couldn’t for the life of me seem to keep track of the monitor. Intangible power was making the hairs on my arms stand on end as Dahlia screeched into the heated air and rocked against the gurney with uncontrollable strength. She shouldn’t have been able to break those straps, but she was getting dangerously close to warping the metal and tearing the fabric. Her eyes grew wider and wider until they took up most of her face, her mouth desperately gasping and screaming at the same time and there was color, the faintest color leaking from her eyes as she cried big, fat tears. 

“PLEASE!” She begged. “PLEASE!” Her sobs were the only thing that broke that otherwise unending scream. “STOP IT! I TAKE IT BACK STOP! PLEASE, IT HURTS!” She was choking on her own tongue, her entire body arching off of the gurney, the stuffed cat in her lap nearly falling to the ground in her struggles. 

On her lap, Remmy twitched. 

“JENNIFER PLEASE,” she wailed. I gripped the lever tighter. My legs were numb. I wanted to fall. She trusted me. She couldn’t do this. I couldn’t do this. 

But the stuffed black cat twitched again and I wanted to see what would happen. 

“Stop…” She sobbed. Now she was trying to claw at her own eyes, desperately trying to get at the color that dripped from her irises, this flowing aura that dissipated in the air as the lights around us flashed and broke down one by one after exploding from far too much power. Only a few remained on the backup generator that kicked in and then quickly got affected by the same electric field all of us were uncomfortable standing in. But it wasn’t just electricity. There was no was this power was something as understandable as that. There was something so much greater in front of us. Incomprehensible. 

Unimaginable beauty rose out from those eyes, colors I’d never seen before, intermixing and changing with each other, flowing out into the air like hands reaching out away from her to escape. That was the power, the creation that was so intense it seemed to flow out of her eyes. There was so much inside her, if only she could access the emotions that made them real. There was so much we could learn, if I just kept the experiment going longer. “I can’t…” Her sobs sounded so faint now against the screams of the fae. 

The ear on Remmy flicked. His tail swished. Suddenly, a deep breath emanated from the small, cotton body. The head seemed to shrink on the comically proportioned cat, the body shifting around to resemble something real. Something alive. The cotton sloughed off the body in chunks, revealing real fur underneath that the creature was shaking off. I found myself just staring at him with one hand on Dahlia’s helmet. I couldn’t end the experiment.

As the little girl screamed, the cat’s fur erupted along his back, the two white socks on his feet shaking off the last of the stitching. The living cat pressed his face against Dahlia’s neck, shaking as she did and holding on for dear life as she fell into a seizure. Her teeth clenched, her eyes wide and seeing nothing as the color grew in strength. It was getting bigger. I couldn’t see her face any longer. There was nothing but color. Pure creation. This was the very fabric of the universe, wrapped into a little girl and all I had to do to get at it was hurt her. 

I caught my breath and slammed the helmet on the girl with tears in my eyes. 

There was guilt inside me. Questions. Answers I didn’t want to hear. I knew what I didn’t want to face. She was under my protection. She was supposed to trust me. She was my child. She was everything I ever wanted to learn about. 

I dug my fingernails into my thigh and tried to smile. I was losing sight of the experiment. The goal.

The lever was pulled a second later by an assistant, but I barely noticed. I didn’t notice that the lights had gone back to normal, or the screeching of the lead against the metal cell. I couldn’t look away from Dahlia.

Dahlia was unmoving, her eyes sightlessly staring at the ceiling. Tears were still drying on her face. Any color that had existed in that moment of agony was nothing more than a memory. Her small body looked like a skeleton now against the heavily deformed gurney. Her cheeks were as pale as a ghost. Whatever was inside her was locked away, and deep. It could have left a signature, but I’d have to check that later. I had to focus on the now, and the now was a child with no power. 

I checked her pulse on the monitor, and was relieved that her heart was still beating, though it was still far too fast. A moment later, her body shifted, and she groaned faintly in pain. It struck me that she was still conscious. Alive, and awake, that was more than I could have hope for. She was more durable than I anticipated. Which left…

I turned to the cat. 

Remmy opened his living eyes to a deep emerald gaze. He’d retained the fur colors of his stuffed version, but there was nothing else to hint at him ever having been a toy. The tom watched me silently with his body still tightly pressed to Dahlia. His hair stood on end as I approached him slowly. He was anticipating something, but I had no interest in a confrontation, and neither did he. We avoided each other as I went on to Dahlia. 

“Dahlia…” I murmured. “Are you awake?” 

“Don’t touch me,” she whispered. Her voice cracked and rasped. She’d torn her vocal cords, and now she sounded so small. “Go away.”

“Okay, but there’s… there’s a complication.” 

“I don’t care. I want to go home,” she said quietly. Her small voice echoed against the metal walls of the testing facility as one of the few noises left, now that the screams were gone. “Let me go.” 

I resisted the flinch. I’d never heard Dahlia sound broken, before. I’d never thought that she was capable of it. I suppose I’d always imagined that there was some part of her that set her apart from other little girls. Something inside that made her smarter. Mature.

Like me. 

But there was a child on a gurney, silently crying as she struggled to gain her senses from her own mind being warped against her. I’d done that to her. 

I helped the assistants untie the straps. As soon as she could move, she gripped at her eyes, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. After another rasping breath, she sat up slowly, her knobbed knees shaking from the stress it took to do just that. Her upper body lilted back and forth in lethargy. Her eyes were red, strained and blind as she felt for her stuffed animal. She grabbed the cat before I could protest and clung to it like a life raft. 

The living cat hissed at the sudden contact but obeyed with a flicking tail. Dahlia flinched as her stuffed toy writhed in her grip and let go as though it were a live wire. Bloodshot eyes stared uncomprehendingly at the feline face with its ears up and attentive. 

“What did you do to Remmy,” she rasped. Her voice raised as far as it could go, little more than a whisper that I strained to hear. “Where is he? What’s going on?” 

“It’s… That was you, Dahlia. That’s Remmy. I could show you the video, but that was you.” 

“Excellent work!” Laurent called out from over the loud speaker. I turned at the abrupt interruption to look bleary eyed at the observation deck. Henry had one hand over the mic and the other adjusting his tie. The gel of his hair glinted against the deck’s backup lights. After the experiment, everything seemed just the faintest bit dimmer. “That was wonderful, exactly what we were looking for. I’ll expect a full comprehensive report of the results after everyone goes through the recordings, but I think it’s safe to say that what we saw here today was a success. What do you say we do another round of this tomorrow, eh? I’ll clear my schedule.” 

I rushed for the mic to respond. An assistant provided it to me. There was a sense of wonder in the young man’s eyes. When I turned to look at the others, I began to realize he wasn’t alone. Everyone was looking at the two of us with a sense of reverence. My stomach churned. 

I had to say something.

“We shouldn’t do this again,” I said into the mic. I tried to calm the waver in my voice. 

“Tell me you’re not being a bleeding heart again, Jennifer.” Behind him, my associates were packing up the written journal recordings. I could hear congratulatory laughter through his end of the speaker. 

“No – I’m saying that Dahlia – the Editor, she can’t handle another experiment like this. She’s still only the body of a child. We were lucky that her constitution didn’t suffer as much as it did through this experiment, and we’ll still need to run a diagnostic to make sure there is no permanent damage. This was a success, but at a cost to the…” I bit my lip, “the specimen we are working with, for lack of a better term. We should try a different method for the next experiment.” 

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’m sure you’ll think of something, but we’ll have to discuss the exact experiment before you decide to try your hand at meditation again. As long as we’re going to continue down this road, I don’t really care how it gets accomplished. But all of you, good work today. Hopefully we can stabilize that power.” 

“Sir,” I continued tentatively just as he was about to turn off his mic. I looked over at Remmy. His fur had smoothed as Dahlia held him, but even she looked somewhat at a loss. Her wrinkled her noise when it mewed faintly at her. “We have a complication. I’m not sure if you can see it from here. But she managed to… Create life. From her stuffed animal. The cat is alive.” 

Even from here, I could see his eyes were gleaming. 

“I want a full report of that specific instance. Was it recorded?”

“Everything was recorded, sir.” 

“Good. We’ll need to expand further on that phenomenon in the next experiment. How is the creature? Is it full alive? How is it’s reactions?” 

I looked back over at the cat. Dahlia had pushed him to the side, so he resigned to flicking his tail and beginning to clean himself on the opposite side of the gurney. 

“It appears to be a normal cat, with all the functions of a living, breathing creature. It’s possible that internally there might be some differing biological structure, perhaps we should have him tested and quarantined?” 

Dahlia glared at me. 

“No,” he said dismissively. “He’s not of any use to us.”

“But you just said-”

“I said I wanted to have a report done on his creation. I don’t care what else happens to him. He’s the kid’s toy, right? Let her deal with him. If she’s a psychopath, maybe she’ll kill him. I don’t particularly care.” 

“But dissection to understand his biological construct could provide insight into the nature of the Editor’s power and a greater understanding as to the limits of her creation!” I argued. “It could help with more sophisticated failsafes, research into the subject where we know almost nothing about it! He’s a brand new phenomenon and we’re expected to just… Just ignore it?” 

“Jennifer.” He smiled. “The focus should be on manifesting and stabilizing this girl’s power right now. Whatever else is going on is of no concern to us. But I do appreciate your drive. Let’s have another brainstorm session after this, huh? I’m sure we can find a way to generate a stabilized editor, and then you can dissect all the cats you want.” He rolled his eyes, dropped the mic, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and disappeared from the front of the observation deck. I was left in the testing facility as the maintenance crew began to cart away the lead cube from the premises. 

Remmy glared at me when I approached to take Dahlia back to her room. His ears flicked back flat against his skull, and the fur along his back rose higher the closer I came. Still, he didn’t seem hostile. The defensive glare was little more than that. 

Dahlia didn’t seem to notice me. Her eyes were still red from the tears and color, and as she ran a hand through her hair, it came back wet from sweat. Her eyes were on the cat and his curious reactions, mutely watching him with pursed lips. 

“Dahlia,” I said softly. Immediately her body flinched away, her legs going from dangling off the gurney to curled up in a ball by the head of the table. Now that she was focused on me, those cold eyes hardened into hatred that gleamed with the faint fragments of editorial magic. Even as it was fading, there was a chill to her. Her piercing stare was a stranger’s.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispered. 

“I’m not going to touch you, Dahlia. But you need to go back to your room. We have to prepare for the next experiment.” 

“I don’t want the next experiment. I don’t want this. I want to go home.” She was crying again, and she didn’t even seem to notice. The tears just rolled out from her eyes with not even a twitch in her stare. Beside her, Remmy arched his back and hissed. 

“We’re going back to your room now and you need to listen to me.” I straightened.

“No.” 

“Dahlia, don’t make me bring security.” 

“What happened to you?” The tears were plastering the metal table and her overalls, sinking into the fabric and leaving big black dollops. She curled up as tight as she could. “I thought you were supposed to listen to me. If you were a coward, at least you were a coward that listened. I don’t want this.” 

“I’m still Jennifer,” I tried to reason. She shook her head.

“No, you’re not. You’re not you anymore. You can’t even begin to imagine how much that… I’m telling you I don’t want to do this anymore, and you’re not listening. So you’re not Jennifer anymore. You don’t even look like her anymore.” She stared up at me. With the faintest emotion left in her eyes, all that she could manage was a stare haunted by fear. “I can’t… I can’t do that again. Don’t make me do that again.” 

I swallowed. 

“You’ll feel better in a few hours,” I said. “You said it yourself. Right now, you’re dealing with emotions. They’ll be gone soon enough.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her from the gurney, forcing her onto her feet. 

“Let go of me.” She tried pull away, but there was no strength left. She merely made herself lose her own balance and fell into me with little grace. The cat jumped down from the gurney immediately with another small hiss, but he did nothing but follow the girl with his hair standing on end the entire time. It struck me just how long his tail was for a little short-hair cat, the way it twisted around Dahlia’s heels and mine as I pulled her down the hallway. We were illuminated by the red haze of backup lights that flickered against the silver walls. An alarm was going off in the distance, but it wasn’t of any consequence to us. Each row of metal, Dahlia pushed a little less, but she wouldn’t walk. I had to force her, gripping her arm and trying to think of something, anything, that could put her at ease. Dahlia might have imagined the two of us grappling for power, but she was as light as anything.

We made it to her room with my lips still pursed in thought and she was silently staring ahead, a bruise beginning to form on her wrist. The finger prints I’d left would fade. The memory might not. 

“I’ll have someone come to see you about running a diagnostic, to make sure you’re alright,” I tried to loosen my grip but as soon as I did, she tried to run.

“I don’t care,” she muttered. “If anyone comes by, I’ll kill them.” 

“Dahlia,” I sighed. 

“Don’t talk to me.” 

“We’ll need to run tests-”

“I said I’m fine!” She shouted in a hoarse, disjointed voice, and I pushed her into the room out of shock. 

“I… I’m sorry,” I murmured. I raised my hands in defense, and Remmy followed her inside at her heels. She made no room to run. She buckled, fell to her knees, and spat onto the floor. Blood dripped from her mouth where she’d bit down on her own tongue. She stared at it, then turned to me. 

Haunted eyes watched me, wide and wary. She kept her face to me, her back against the wall, her entire body clenched up like an animal with a faint shaking visible in her shoulders. 

“You wanted this,” I whispered. “You wanted us to get you these powers. I was just doing what you wanted.” 

“I’m just a kid.” She wiped her mouth and gulped. A quiet, soft sob wracked her body before the emotional wave died down, and all that was left was a glare. “I’m just a kid. You’re an adult. You’re supposed to know what to do. You should have known.”

“I had to,” I gripped the handle of the door tightly. 

“No. You didn’t.” She closed her eyes. “Leave me alone.”

“Dahlia, we can talk about this. We don’t have to stop here. We could – we could talk, like friends. Like we did before.” 

“You were never my friend. Stop trying to be something you’re not. You’re an adult. So act like it. Be my enemy. Torture me. Do what you have to do.”

“Dahlia.” Tentatively, I reached towards her, but she flinched away. 

“Don’t touch me.” She spat again. This time a small piece of gum came with it. She paused, looked at it, then sagged her shoulders. “You’re the monster here,” she muttered. “Not me.”

I closed the door behind me and stared at the red lights in the hallway, from which came the faintest buzz. Clutching my heart, I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath. There was a twitching in my hand I couldn’t seem to control. 

The goal. I had to retain sight on the goal. 

There was work to be done. Progress to be made.


	17. Chapter 17

Dahlia

The cat was pacing the room back and forth. I sat motionless on the bed, my ears darting to keep up with the slim thing that kept circling back to the door and staring at it with big green eyes. He stretched a paw out at it, batting it, then turned back around to look up at where the security camera had been hooked up to before it was taken down. He continued down the spotless room to look through the other mounts that once held those annoying buzzing cameras, then flicked back around to the broken pager in the corner of the room. My hands still stung, but after enough smashing against the metal door, I thought I had thoroughly broken it. It was little more than a hunk of metal and wires now. 

His tail twitched to and fro as he investigated the pager. Only then did he seem satisfied. He trotted up to my curled up body on the edge of the bed and sat down on the floor. 

His eyes were big, green, and surreal. His nose was black, just like it had been before. His tail was still ringed like a lemur’s. Two white paws, one on his front and one on his back. His ears were almost as large as they’d been when he was a toy. If he had ever been that toy. But he was breathing. There was no Remmy to hold onto anymore. 

This wasn’t Remmy. 

“What do you want?” I muttered.

“Privacy,” he answered. 

The room went quiet.

I tilted my head to the side. “What?”

“Privacy,” he repeated, his voice clipped and sharp. His mouth opened and closed awkwardly, like a cat trying to yawn. But he was somehow clicking his tongue together, making words with a mouth not made to bend that way. “If they knew I could speak, do you really think they’d let you and I stay together?”

“You’re talking.” I drew away from the cat that watched me with a less than amused glare. “That –You’re talking.” 

“Yes, it’s all rather strange, I’m sorry for startling you. But look at me. I have a heartbeat. I can move – I’ve got a soul now. Talking is the least of your concerns right now. I’m alive. I’m not your stuffed animal anymore. I mean –“ he paused when he saw me tense up. “I am still your stuffed animal, really. I just…” He paused. “Remmy? Really? I don’t want to be called Remmy the rest of my life. Not if I can have a say in it.” He inspected his own paws, then flicked his ears back when he looked over at me. I glowered. “Don’t be scared.” 

“I’m not scared.”

“Right…” He frowned as much as a cat could. “You’re still… That. Not emotional.” He licked his paw to pause, then glanced over at me. “I’m sorry, this is a little new for both of us. I’m getting all these strange wirings running around in my head telling me the bare bones of information and I’m not even sure what to do with this because an hour ago my brain was COTTON. Has your brain ever been cotton? No. Right. Not cotton.”

I’d pushed myself into the corner of the bed. His mouth kept moving and moving. My fists clenched under the blankets as I watched the strange supernatural thing and a familiar trickling of anger grew inside. He wasn’t much different than the vampires. “What are you?” 

“I’m your stuffed animal come to life come on keep up. I know you’re smarter than this. At least smarter than that dimwit of a researcher. I’m Remmy,” he said, when I set my jaw in a frown. “Where else would your toy be? They have no reason to hide it. It’s me. I’m alive. You made me alive. I didn’t even know what I didn’t know before, and suddenly now I realize I’ve been imprisoned ever since I was put together in that factory and shipped to the shelf of some tourist trap only to be picked up by your sister. God, I remember all of it now. I was trapped in my own body.” He ducked his head down to stare at his own paws. “My head was enormous. How did they ever think that a cat could look like that? We don’t have button eyes. We don’t have heads as big as our bodies.” 

“You’re talking too much and making too little sense,” I said. I looked up at the ceiling with a sigh. If I killed him, then there wouldn’t be anymore noise. But if he was dead, there was the tiniest possibility I couldn’t get Remmy back. I wanted Remmy back. They’d taken him away and now there was nothing to hold onto but a blanket that didn’t feel anything like Remmy. 

“You have to get it by now. You made me. You created my very existence as a living, sentient organism. There’s no other explanation here, THIS is what an Editor is capable of. This is what they’re trying to milk out of you and make into their own harnessable power. Ask me something, anything. I’ll know the answer. Anything you’ve told your stuffed animal, you’ve told me because Remmy IS me. I am Remmy – please change that name I hate it so much. But you made me. I am here now, connected to you on levels that I don’t even understand.”

I shook my head. “This is crazy. I’m going crazy. That stupid scientist broke apart my brain and made me crazy.”

“You’re not crazy, I’m right here talking to you, not being an illusion.” I glared at him. “Okay. Point taken. I am also a talking cat that has taken the shape of your stuffed animal and that can be rather taxing on a ten year old’s mind. Eleven, now. Did you know your birthday passed?” 

“I don’t care.” 

“I remember it, at least. See? Another thing I remember from when I was your stuffed animal. I suppose it’s always possible that you’re going insane and all of this is just an elaborate auditory and visual hallucination you’ve been having for the past several months but what would be the point in entertaining an idea that is stupid and going to get you nowhere? It’s just going to make you stay here for the rest of your miserable short life doing nothing while these monsters use you for their gain. I’m not the craziest thing in this world, Dahlia.” 

I wrinkled my nose and curled up tighter on the bed. My eyes hardened the more I stared at the painted ceiling, my fists curling until the words were bubbling up and the faintest pangs of an emotion came back. With it was the last flickers of pain. Memories of color. I hated it. I just wanted it gone. It didn’t matter anymore. “Go away. I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t need you. I’ll find some other toy. But I just want you to shut up and leave me alone so they can take you away. As soon as they figure out you can talk.” 

“I would appreciate if they didn’t,” he gulped, despite the fact of being a cat. “Dahlia, as much as it pains me to admit it - seeing as you are in no state to be an ally I can trust - I’m still your cat. I’m here to help you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I literally have no where else to go.” I numbly shook my head, refusing to look at him.

“You’re one of Jennifer’s things, now. This was all her idea. I don’t want you.” 

“I’m not in with Jennifer. I hate her. You saw it just as much as anyone else when I changed on your lap to the real thing. It must have hurt, you must have been focused on other things, but I was right there. The whole time. I could feel my own mind being constructed piece by piece because of you. I could feel that breath of life that you gave me. And I know things that you’ve only ever told Remmy. Dahlia, you spent hours on end in your room researching different kinds of food because it was the only thing that seemed to make you the slightest bit happy. Did you ever tell Jennifer that?” 

“No.” I huddled closer to the wall. He settled back on his haunches and eyed the edge of the bed, then jumped up with the faintest puff. “Don’t come any closer,” I warned.

“You kept me around because you love Charlie and every day of your life is spent never wanting to forget your sister.” He sat on the edge of the bed and stayed there, but his eyes glinted with secrets. “And I appreciate that. It means I’m still here and you’re not alone in this fight.” 

“What are you supposed to be, then? Why did you talk? Not some pen on their operating table or something?” 

He huffed. “I’m not sure. I don’t know everything, as much as I wish I did. That would make this a whole lot easier. That editor magic leaking everywhere was bound to do something. It just so happened to make something useful.”

“You’re useless.” 

His ears flicked back, his shoulders slouched. “Not entirely. We can come up with a plan. We’ll stick together, I’ll find us a way out of here, and we’ll see about hitchhiking back to Maine as soon as we can.”

“We can’t do that.”

“Why not? It wouldn’t be too difficult and it’s obvious that what happened with your mother was very illegal and very much out of her own ignorance. We get you back into school, find our own way to get your powers released and keep as far away from The Company as we can. Or maybe we go into hiding.” He noted my frown. “Perhaps that would be the better solution. They could easily find you and I with the power they have and we don’t have anything on our side to keep them away from us, other than those powers you can’t use and I can’t help with and they probably have every major power in the world under their thumb and they could use the same program that found you in the first place and ugghhhh.” He pushed his face down between his paws. 

“What?” 

He glared up me half-heartedly through a white and black paw. “I’m saying this is going to be more difficult than I thought.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” I frowned. “You’re talking too fast and you expect me to understand what you’re saying? Your voice hurts my head. I just wish you’d stop. Turn back into Remmy. This is stupid.” I tossed a pillow at him, but he didn’t even budge. Huffing, I turned my head to the side and elected to ignore him. 

“Well, thank you, all powerful creator, for being so kind to your first attempt at life. I am forever grateful.” 

“I didn’t mean to make you. You coming to life is your fault, not mine.” I thoughtfully stared at the wall. “What if I killed you? Then you’d stop talking. You might turn back into a stuffed animal, then.” 

When I looked back, the cat’s throat moved. It took a second to realize he was swallowing out of fear. 

“You could. I highly doubt that would turn me back, but you could. Or, and I’m just spit balling here, you could let me help you. We could actually try brainstorming a plan together here, instead of you moping in this bed and waiting for Jennifer and her madness to come back with another method of torture.”

“Why are you bothering trying to help me anyways,” I yawned. 

“You’re my creator, aren’t you?” 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Well. It’s complicated.” 

“I’m not your creator.” 

“You are when you’re an Editor.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“Okay, okay. Just listen to me for once, please. I’ve spent all my life listening to you.” He paused, and waited for me to say something. I just narrowed my eyes. “Okay,” he said. “Thank you. So. I’ve been… Paying attention, to things. Things that no one else in this damned facility are noticing, and you don’t even seem to catch.”

“I saw everything.”

“You didn’t see me turn real, apparently. But I saw all of it, but now it’s fractured in my head and I’m struggling to put it together. Believe me though I’m trying.” He poked at the mattress. “Forms. The ones she kept on the table when we were discussing things. The reports on the clipboards of the other scientists. Everything I could even glance at. Editors are strange creatures, full of things that no one here understands or grasps and half the time they’re faking what they think they know. It’s a whole lot of nothing that Jennifer has, but it isn’t much better for us.”

“You’re sounding useless right about now,” I muttered. 

“Wait a second, she had a theory. And I think it’s right. Editors being connected, intimately, to everything they make.” He trailed off, and the calming silence made my shoulders finally relax. 

“Do you remember what happened, before?” He asked.

Snapshots of screaming, pain, colors burning into my essence. The lights broke, the unbearable pain echoing through my mind. Begging, pleading. I wanted to kill it. I wanted to stab it out and make sure it never saw the light of day again. I screamed back at it, and the auras of everything around me pressed down, congested me, filled my mind and screamed back a harsh and unyielding no. It wasn’t going to stop. I couldn’t make it stop. The world would keep spinning the colors would keep flowing and crying was the most torturous thing in the world. My very eyes were on fire. I was clenching, clutching, crying, and then… 

I gripped the blankets tighter and closed my eyes. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“So you don’t remember that connection? What about what I looked like, remember how you told me about my aura? What color it was?”

Green. “No. Stop it. Go away.” 

He pushed his claws into the mattress. “I had a green aura. You told me that, before. You saw what I was, what I could be capable of, what was incubating in there because of how much time you spent with me. You gave me a color, a shape, a voice, everything. You connected me to the power you contained and maybe maybe close to you was enough to generate life from that.”

“I’m not in the mood. Leave me alone.” 

“What is the point of lying to me? What do you gain by being difficult?” 

“Satisfaction,” I suggested. 

“To what end? You’re only shooting yourself in the foot.” His ears twitched back when I drew myself up to glare at him, but he wasn’t shutting up. I couldn’t keep intimidating him forever. “You’re not going to solve anything by just sitting here and doing nothing. I’m trying to tell you about being an Editor so that we can work together and so you can trust me but this isn’t going to help anything. Being upset over what happened is normal. I understand what she did to you.” His eyes softened. “I know you’re hurting. But we can’t just sit here and wait for them to do it again.” 

No, he didn’t. He was just another voice that pretended to know how things work. I was tired of it. I didn’t need someone to tell me what to do anymore. It was all stupid and dumb and wrong anyways. No matter the choice, the adults made sure it was the wrong one. He sounded just like an adult. “My head hurts and you’re making it worse.” 

“I’m not trying to. You gave me this voice. Listen to me, please. Editors are like big, all encompassing servers, depending on how many more you might make like me. You’re the server, I’m the computer. That’s what I think. And that’s why I’m trying to get us out of here as soon as possible.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You gave me life. Where did that power come from? You. You’re the one that made me. Nothing in this world is keeping me going except for you. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there’s got to be some kind of faint spark, letting out just enough power to keep me alive. Maybe you can’t feel it, maybe I can’t either. But… Something, something in my gut is telling me things. I can feel it if I really look for it. You’re the creator. My creator.” He pressed a paw against his stomach. “Something is just… Whispering. Like a shredded thread of thought that wants to be known but it too old to be heard. I have to protect you. I feel like that’s what I need to do. To keep myself alive, and for your sake. I was made, for you. So, you keep me going. If you were to die, then I’d lose this brand new and wonderful life you’ve just given me.” He turned around. “Granted, in the middle of the worst possible time, but I doubt I’d ever come to exist in any other circumstance.” 

“You’re talking about a hunch. Just what you feel. That is meaningless. And I’d wish you’d just stop talking.” 

“You try not existing for years. And then suddenly, sentience. And everything I’ve ever heard is suddenly something. And my life means so much more than the majority of the people on this Earth. I was made in front of my own God for her benefit. Because you were afraid, and you needed someone. I don’t even know what to think about that.” He sighed, his tail drooping to the edge of the mattress. His shoulders shifted as he kneaded the bed without thinking much of it. “I just want to help achieve my purpose.”

Slowly, cautiously, I drew up behind him with the blanket still over my shoulders to watch him. His ears twitched around, the faintest purr coming from him as he continued to knead, but he didn’t look surprised when I picked him up by the waist and turned him to face me. His body drooped, the tail flicking between his legs and his front paws still kneading faintly in the air. 

“Are you afraid of me?” I asked the cat.

“You talk about killing me like it’s nothing,” He said. “So, a little. But I know you. And I know you wouldn’t hurt your stuffed toy.” He tilted his head to the side and raised his ears. “Right?” 

“You’re not Remmy.” His ears flicked back against his skull. 

“I am. Kind of. Even if I wasn’t, I’m trying to help. But I am.” I raised an eyebrow, and he stretched out in my arms until he was long and languid and swaying back and forth. “And I know you don’t like the talking thing,” he said when I cringed at his loudness. “But I can’t stand not talking.” 

“Can you talk quieter?” 

“What about this?” He whispered loudly through tiny fangs. His legs dangled loosely under him, but he used his front paws to try and gesture to his face. “Is this quieter?”

“No, you’re just whisper yelling. It’s even worse.” 

“Well I don’t know how talking works and I want to be loud anyways! I never got to say anything at all before! You don’t get it,” he sighed. “This – this is a blessing. I’ve been blessed with life. By my God. By you. And now I’m free. And I could do anything. Well. Not anything. Anything in this room. I could say ANYTHING.” 

“Are you really Remmy?” 

“Only if you come up with a name that isn’t Remmy. Then yes, I am that which was once that sad, sad looking doll. Do you believe me now?”

“You weren’t sad looking, you were Remmy.” 

“Okay. Fine. I was Remmy.” He lolled his head back and groaned. “But can we pleeease come up with something that isn’t Remmy?”

“How do I know you’re not lying about wanting to help me?” I asked. 

He blinked, then looked up at me. I stared down at the little cat. His tail flicked back and forth like a feather duster. His paws swung uselessly at his sides. A pathetic little animal. “What do I have to gain by lying to you? You and I are all we’ve got. Those people hurt you. They hurt that guy in the cage. They hurt that mermaid. They’ll hurt anyone that they feel like they need to. And they’ll dissect me as soon as they figure out I know how to talk.” 

“So all you want to do is things for yourself,” I said.

“And you’re my Editor. I wasn’t lying about that. Connection. I feel that. We have to work together. I want to.” He pressed his cheek against my arm, and closed his eyes. 

Silently, I watched the cat purr as he pressed his face against me. The fur was soft and ticklish. When he opened his eyes, they sparkled green. 

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Cuddling.” 

“What.”

“We used to do it all the time.”

“No,” I argued. “I just held onto you. That isn’t cuddling.”

“Well, then I guess there’s been a communication error.” He writhed in my grip, and I let him go, thinking he’d head back to the edge of the bed. But then he clambered into my lap and settled there before I could push him away. His paws lay neatly under him, lying down as I sat there, blankets around my shoulders, wondering how far he would go if I threw him. His small paws began to knead my pant leg, another rumbling purr rising from his throat. The scruff of his neck was rather inviting. It would make an easier target to grab. 

“I am fully aware that you are a psychopath too, you know.” he continued nonchalantly. “I was there when you got the diagnosis.”

“Then why are you trying to do this. This is just an exercise in futility.”

“All I have is you, whether or not the psychopath part is there. I’d hope that you would understand the logic of having an ally at the very least. So, you could rip me out of your lap and throw me against the door and kill me or something – which I would really appreciate if you didn’t. Or… You could just let me sit here and be your stuffed animal for a while. I promise my fur is softer now.” 

I experimentally ran a hand down his back. The body under it shivered and breathed, it made my nose wrinkle. But he was softer. The cat fur was real, didn’t feel anything like the polyester that I was used to running my hands through and touching whenever I felt like it. It was always a very short, very fake plastically touch that my fingertips were sometimes tactile enough to grip. But now it was softer under his ears, and when I rubbed there, his purrs grew louder. Living purrs. His tail flicked along my leg, big and bushy compared to how short his fur was on the rest of him. I grabbed the annoying thing, and he flinched. I ignored it, focusing on the tail and how large it was. Ridiculously long, ringed at the end and almost as soft as his ears. I pet the fur so it would go back the other way, and found the actual tail somewhere in that forest of hair. 

“Could you please let that go?” 

“Why?” 

“It feels weird.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just. Back pets. Come on. Haven’t you ever pet a cat before?” 

“No.” 

“What about… That last time, remember, at the fair?” He asked. “The goats, when your mother took you to look at the petting zoo. There were goats, you fed them through the bars. Surely you got a chance to pet them, right? If I’m remembering correctly.” 

“They avoided me.” He blinked for a moment, then flicked his ears back again, and dropped his head against his leg. 

“Oh. Oh right. Now I remember. I suppose I never really noticed… That. What about… There was that dog, on the street – no he tried to bite you. And then that cat by the window ran off and nearly got hit by a car.” He looked up at me hesitantly with a twisted maw of a nervous smile. “Should I be afraid?”

“I’m trying to think of how far I could throw you.” 

“Oh. Well. Still? I would appreciate if you didn’t.”

“It depends on how much you keep talking about nothing.” 

“I’ll try to be succinct, but it’s difficult when there’s so much to say.” I lay back against the bed, still stroking over the cat’s ears, and listened to the sound of my own heartbeat when I was pressed right up against the wall. “So,” he said. “Escape.” 

“Stupid.” 

“Not if we have a plan.” 

“I’m a child and you’re a cat.”

“Alright. That is a difficult situation. Not impossible.” 

“Don’t waste your time being stupid.” 

“Alright, then what do you propose?” He squawked. “What else is there to do?” 

I stroked his head absently. The warmth in my lap was different than the soft, cold body of Remmy. When the cat stopped talking, it was almost bearable. Which is why this next part was going to be regrettable. 

“Tell me everything you know about Editors. Everything you feel. I need to know everything I can. And maybe then, we can think of a way to escape.” 

His eyes widened, and the biggest smile his cat face could form lit up his features. 

“Okay.” 

I spent hours staring up at the ceiling and wishing I’d never said anything. I could have crushed him when I’d had the chance. 

There were different possibilities on where it came from, that an Editor was a seed of another Editor, a life cycle. That an Editor was just a kind of human that had mutated some kind of eldritch power. That an Editor was an entirely other supernatural entity. None of it really mattered. What mattered, was what I was capable of. 

The answer was anything. He’d looked through the reports when I hadn’t paid attention, he’d seen what the supposed conclusions should have been at the end of the experiment. A hurdle, she kept referring to. A hurdle that would pull me over the pain and land me square in the realm of Editor without ever having to go back. It was theoretical. All of it was, but this was where they were shooting entirely in the dark. All these experiments were working off of the idea that if they pushed it far enough, I could be an Editor, permanently. And I knew that. It’s just, when the cat said it, I began to realize what that meant. If they were right, then I’d eventually get over that hurdle. If they were wrong, then the only way they’d ever be happy is if I was tortured. 

I didn’t want to think about that. 

But if we could get over that hurdle, then the pain could be gone. Maybe. The colors had hurt, but maybe they could stop. And something made the both of us pause. If I got over that hurdle, and I had that power. Then no failsafe in the world would be able to hold back a God. There was nothing they had that would stop me. 

If they made me a God, then I could escape. 

Remmy and I stared at each other, his eyes sparkling. 

“What if there’s no hurdle?” I asked. “What then?” 

“Then… Then we think of something else. Anything else. We’ll get you out of here. One way or another. I’ll think of something. I promise.” 

He talked about the colors, and what they could mean. He was so certain that they were a sign of creation, that they were a manifestation of my power incarnate. And yet then he’d pause, thoughtfully flick his ear, and go on to talk about the possibility of something else out there. That perhaps this power wasn’t fully my own and those colors weren’t exactly the good sources of power that we thought they could be. I’d been seeing them for ages, always at times of stress, always in periods of pain. And they’ve just been there, indifferent to me, flowing and causing me pain with their sharp, bright colors piercing into my flesh. There was no way that they could be simply benign factors that existed to service my needs. Perhaps it was something intangible, a force beyond us. 

Pyrim really liked to hear himself talk.

“Why the Rim part? Why the Py? What if we went back to the idea of a more human name again? Henry? Henry’s a good name.”

“This is the name I’m going with.” 

“I mean, I’ll take what I can get. It’s better than Remmy. But it’s not even a name!” His tail swished angrily. “Pyrim? Like pie dough? Or perhaps a pyre? What rim of a thing is this?” 

“Do you want me to call you Remmy or not?” I asked. 

“Ah, yes, thank you, all powerful creator, for this wonderful new name I have so unworthily requested. I shall cherish is always and forever. Amen.”

“I am not a God.” I pulled his ear. He flinched away from the contact, so I went back to petting his back like he told me to. “Jennifer kept saying that I wasn’t a God, that it was something different.” 

“It’s indistinguishable from where I’m standing, isn’t it?” He blinked up at me. “Do you want to be a God?”

“I want to get out of here.”

“Right.” He placed a paw on my leg. “And we will, soon enough. Now, I wanted to talk about the possibility of other Editors, and the whole idea of their being multiple ones – now this was something I think I could know for certain if we just kept using that machine of Jennifer’s, and I’m surprised they haven’t-”

The door to the room unlocked. 

Pyrim’s mouth clamped shut. I tightened my grip on his fur until he was flinching under my grasp, but he breathed out through his teeth to hide any sound of pain. Slowly, the heavy metal door swung open. Jennifer walked into the room with a clipboard and a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. There was a pleading in them, like she was asking something of me, though she hadn’t said a word. I stared at her, waiting for her to make the first move, and pulled the cat closer. He nestled into my neck as he sought purchase against my chest. 

“You’re going to take him away?” I asked. She couldn’t have heard anything, I’d ripped this place apart. She had no reason to be here. 

“I’m here for the next experiment, Dahlia,” she said softly. “We’re going to try again, and this time it could be less painful for you. Are you ready to go?” 

Her voice made me nauseous.

Pyrim stared up at me in shock, his ears going back as he looked between my dead set jaw and Jennifer. Pleadingly, he touched my shoulder with his paw. This was too soon. We should have had at least another day to think, to plan, to rest. I was still finding it difficult to think properly. If Pyrim’s voice hurt, then I could only imagine how much worse everything else could be. 

“Why so soon?” I asked. 

“We’re making things run as smoothly as possible. I have the Board of Directors and their help, and it’s allowed us to make decisions and carry them out quickly. We have everything at our disposal to work towards our goal, but all I need now is my associate.” 

“Stop that.” I backed up against the wall. The blankets around me fell back, and I felt naked. Pyrim hissed in Jennifer’s direction. “I’m not your associate. Stop pretending.” 

“You are, Dahlia.” She wouldn’t stop smiling. It was crooked. Maybe she was hurt. I wanted her to be hurt. She deserved it. She never listened. She was worse than all of them. She was a liar. “And I don’t want you to be afraid. This time, there won’t be pain.” 

“Yes, there will. That’s what this always is.” 

“This time, I have a plan for another way to help manifest your power. Perhaps we’ll be able to get you even further along than before.” 

“The colors hurt. It’ll always be pain. You keep hurting me and you expect me to be good and take it. I don’t want to be here anymore. What if I never get over the hurdle? What if it just hurts all the time and never stops? Do you know what you’re going to do to me? Can you live with that?” I glared at her. Pyrim did the same. 

“Dahlia, please. I promise it won’t be how you think it will be. It’s not going to be that bad. We’re going to work together. And we’ll get over that hurdle together. I know it’s possible.” 

“No, we won’t. Stop it. You’re not listening to me.” I gripped Pyrim tighter, until he hissed against my ear and I had to voluntarily loosen my grip. “I’m not going. You can’t make me go.”

“I have to.” 

“Then tell me I’m not your associate anymore.” 

“You are.” 

“Stop pretending. Stop being like my mom, and the psychologist, and the teachers at school. Stop trying to pretend like nothing is wrong. Just tell me that you’re just like the rest of them, and stop pretending that you’re the good guy. You’ve never been the good guy. You don’t have to smile anymore. I can see that you’re just a liar.” 

Jennifer stepped back. Her hands were tightly clenched and shaking, and a moment later her fingers dug into her thighs as she let out a slow, painful breath. Her smile dropped, and in its place was a devastated frown. She was holding back a sob. There were tears in her eyes. 

I hated crying. I hated it so much that I wanted to just rip something apart. I never hated things before. She made me hate things. She made me want to hurt things. She did this to me. 

Pyrim yowled in protest. I’d dug my hands into his skin. 

“I’ve never been a liar. I told you it would hurt, and you agreed. I’m just trying to do my job. I have to see this to the end. That’s what we both signed up for.” 

“No, you don’t. I never signed up for this. You kidnapped me.” 

“I don’t have any other choice. I can’t leave. I’m a prisoner too.” 

“You do. You could let me leave. And then leave, yourself.”

Tears fell down and I turned away in disgust. “I can’t do that, Dahlia. My whole life… All of this sacrifice, every step of the way, I chose this. I can’t afford to turn back now. I can’t afford to listen to you anymore. How can I give this up, when I’m so close?” Her voice cracked. “How can I possibly let that go? Why can’t you just understand what we need to do together? What we’ve been destined to do from the beginning?” One last, heartbreaking sob, and she was done. I don’t know what she wanted out of me. She knew me more than any of them. I was a psychopath, and she was a weakling. Tears didn’t work with Charlie, and they wouldn’t work with her. 

I thought of pushing her into a river and my mouth twitched.

“We have to go,” she said adamantly. “I have work to do. Either we go together, or I get security. Don’t make me have to do that. We can still be civil, but it’s your choice. Are you taking Remmy?” 

Pyrim looked up at me with worried eyes. His tail curled around my wrist. I wondered what he saw in me. If he could notice those cracks. Maybe my heart was beating a little faster. It never did that, before. He was warm.

I nodded to myself, looking down at him. He hung his head. 

I looked up at her with dead eyes. There was a coward standing in front of me, a whimpering, blubbering coward who’s only determination she ever had was one that harmed all others in the process. I couldn’t care less whom she harmed. Whether or not her wife mattered to her anymore. But now I was in the fray, and I was left to deal with her madness of moving forward no matter the cost. She was shaking, shuddering, whimpering apologies under her breath, and the rank stench of cowardice entangled my nostrils and left my mouth sour. She didn’t even have the strength to tell me I was right and move on.

“I hate you,” I said simply. “Do you know that I hate you?” 

She waited until I was standing beside her before she opened the door. “I can imagine,” she muttered at the edge of her breath. Her hands shook as she closed the door behind us. “I would too.”


	18. Chapter 18

Jennifer 

It’s strange, that sensation of walking to the gallows. One might stare ahead, poised aloft, waiting for the world to end and for one to reach one’s own damnation. That etiquette so often held on inmates facing the electric chair just so that the newspaper might say they went to their fates with quiet dignity. But when faced with their own damnation in the chair itself, that façade breaks. They’re left with the miserable fact that it doesn’t matter what happens in their last moments. They’ll still jerk and shake, wet themselves, scream, and die. In the end, we all still burn. We all still hurt. And, I thought, we all felt. 

Dahlia didn’t look at me. I didn’t expect her to, but her eyes were immeasurably focused on the blinding lights ahead of us and the door at the end of the hall that led into the testing facility. Her mouth was pursed, her step quiet and light. The cat in her arms was little more than a purr of fur, his tail wrapped tightly around her arm like a lemur’s. Her eyes were cold, chilled to the bone, full of the nothing I’d grown to expect. But I looked too far into those dark brown pools. I caught myself searching for a sense of mercy that I didn’t deserve. My heart jerked at the malice, the insurmountable hatred, the anguish. 

She hated me. 

Dahlia hated me. 

And I didn’t expect anything less, really. This was my doing. All of it. I was the one that started this experiment. I was the one that brought Jesse and I together, and pressed that button. Every step of the way, I kept going. 

I didn’t have any other choice. 

I kept catching myself nearly speaking to her. I thought it would be nice to bounce ideas off of my associate, to be able to tell her how I felt. To try and explain to her the reasoning behind my decisions, the reason I could never do what she wanted. I sacrificed everything. I lost my wife. I lost Jesse. Damien… I didn’t even know where he was. Contained, perhaps, his robot sold to some foreign party. There were so many possibilities these days. Whomever Laurent wanted gone, there they went. She had to know what kind of tightrope we walked. She had to realize that if I said no, if I got us out of here, if we left and disappeared into Manhattan and found each other a home and worked to forget the past, that we would be made to suffer. An example would be made out of us. I wanted so desperately to give her what she wanted, that in any other world, I wouldn’t be tied so intimately to this bed I’d made. 

I was Laurent’s golden child. He wanted me to succeed. By any means possible. And Dahlia had to know that. She was smart. She was calculable. She was pragmatic. 

And she was a little girl and I had ruined her. 

I said nothing when I opened the door for her into the brightly lit room. The observation deck was filled, today. Researcher upon researcher poured over each other up in the bubble of glass to stare at the girl that was a God and see if they could catch a glimpse at the raw power we all knew she was capable of. I didn’t doubt they were disappointed when a girl with short, ragged hair, tired eyes, and overalls appeared before them holding her support animal as tightly as she dared. She looked up at them with the cold, dead eyes of an emotionless body, and a few of the younger ones shrank back away from the screen. Satisfied, she looked down to survey our machinations. 

Our newest experiment was creative, to say the least, but she wouldn’t know that. The layout of the floor contained a metal box not unlike the one before, though this nearly reached the ceiling of the main testing room itself. The construction of the container had happened within the testing facility itself on short notice, only provided by Laurent’s generous addition of staff. The box was thus crude and rudimentary. Its door was opened invitingly in front of Dahlia’s tensed shoulders, the inside as brightly lit as the out. Lights had been installed on each corner of the square prison, along with security cameras that were toggled through an operating station just outside of the construct. She peered inside the room, her cat craning his head to see as well, and the two of them noted the metal floor that clanged loudly when she stepped on it. She winced at the sound. On the other side of this metal square, a far, far larger door was closed and barred from the other side. Due to the size of this box, she wouldn’t have been able to see a box of nearly the same dimensions behind it, made out of the same material. The two of them were side by side, welded together, with no room for error, or light. Covered slits on every side of the main box were covered by the same lead material, and almost impossible to notice. 

The gates of hell were marked by lead and locks. 

“What is this?” She asked. She pointed to the tiny cage in the center of this metal room, then turned coldly back to me. “Is that where you expect to put me?” There was no fear in her eyes, only cold, brutal anger. It was the one emotion she seemed to struggle to keep. 

“It’s enough for you to stand, Dahlia. You just have to be there for a few minutes, and then the experiment will conclude. In order for it to be successful, you’ll need to be left unaware of the intent.” I found I couldn’t recognize my own voice anymore. Those honeyed words I said rang in my own ears as the tone of a stranger. And she noticed it too. Her lip curled, her eyes narrowed, and her cat’s ears went back as though he understood what I said and how strange and wrong it sounded. My bile rose when I realized how similar I was to the woman I’d left so long ago. Soft, content, pleasing. Like there was always a chance for a happy ending. 

I stood before my tormented child and I knew that the one I left would never text me again if she knew what I was capable of. Perhaps I should tell her. Though I supposed that door had closed long ago. 

“And I don’t have a choice,” Dahlia muttered. Spite bit at her tongue. Her hooded eyes ogled the small cage in the center of the room. Bars of titanium crossed together as tiny mesh in a four by four box, situated in the middle as the only defining structure. The door to this cage too, was open, and Dahlia watched it like she was the predator, instead of the prey. She seemed almost unamused, and unconcerned. Just… Angry. 

“It would be better if you got in it sooner, rather than later,” I said.

“So you can kill me with it?” 

“I am not going to kill you, Dahlia.” 

“I guess you wouldn’t. I have to live, so you can torture me.” She turned up to regard me. “When we don’t get over that hurdle, and you choose to torture me for the rest of my life, when do you think you’ll finally kill me? When your boss is satisfied? When you feel guilty? Or never?” 

I stared ahead at the cage. “We’ll get over that hurdle.” 

“Sure we will. You don’t even flinch anymore. What do you feel now?” 

I grimaced, but I couldn’t bare to look at her. “It hurts.” 

Silently, she walked over to the tiny cage. “Good,” she said with her back turned. “People who don’t listen deserve to hurt.” She walked into the metal box, and turned around to face me. I reached out, but she pulled the door closed herself.

“Dahlia,” I said quickly, even as they began to usher me out of the lead room. “Dahlia, wait.” They could place the heart rate monitors and voice recorder on her themselves, they didn’t need me. There was no reason to stay there. She hated me, I shouldn’t have been talking to her. This just made it worse. But I couldn’t stop my mouth. “This isn’t going to hurt – it’s not that kind of experiment. I asked Laurent – I wanted – before, I told, it’s not going to be what you think!” 

“Shut up, Jennifer,” Dahlia said. She looked down at the plastic monitors on her arms and stomach, then leaned back against the cage and watched the maintenance workers lock her in. “Just start the experiment.” 

The lead door sealed shut in front of me. I clutched at my blouse, my furrowed brows staring intently at the lock. A thick sheet of lead separated us. She was completely alone. I couldn’t do anything to help her. I don’t think I ever could. 

The familiar clicking of shined loafers behind me warned me that my time was already running thin. I sighed, then turned to the security cameras and kept my gaze on the girl who’s life I was destroying while my own warden stepped up behind me and peered over my shoulder. I let the emotion drip away, slowly, piece by piece, as the sound of his voice drove me deeper and deeper inside myself. 

“I don’t like this, Jennifer,” Henry said. “You and I both know what happens when you don’t listen to the things I say, right?” 

“I am aware. But this is no meditation, and I am not working under the same principle as before.” Like claws, my fingers pawed over the buttons to change view and re-position the camera. I huddled over the system, my back hunched. “This was already justified by the vampire incident previously, and should therefore work all the same.” 

“Without the telepathy.” 

“The telepathy was a side benefit. I have reason to believe there was more to that encounter than explained in the report. Her relationship with her sister showed a kind of caring that could be used to our benefit. If she has any care at all for her sister, I imagine she also has care for herself. Self preservation should lead to the emotions we are looking for. It’s only a matter of creating a situation where she requires that self preservation to kick in.” I took a breath, and quietly congratulated myself on not stepping over my own words. “Thank you, for allowing me use of the mythological department on such short notice.” 

“Of course,” he chuckled. “Well, anything that would work. That was just the one that responded the fastest. Though it does seem like a waste of time and effort to use supernatural creatures when electrocution could work just as well.” He pushed his hands into his pockets and leaned over to look at Dahlia on the screen. “You sound as cold as ever, Jen. What did the girl say to you?” 

“She hates me.” 

“You didn’t think she would?” 

“I knew she would. I didn’t expect her to say it.” 

“Why not?” He asked. “She’s a psycho. Some autistic psycho that couldn’t even figure out how to be charismatic to fit in. She’s like a plucked bird. You really think she wouldn’t just say what comes to mind? And what have you been doing to her?” 

“Breaking her.” I focused on the screen. He slapped my back and laughed. 

“Making a God, Jen. Never lose sight of the God part.” 

“Editor.” 

“Editor,” he corrected. “Can’t forget your patented name. Now, should we get this show on the road? Are all the failsafes in place? What are we going to do if this doesn’t work? Should I break out another lecture?” 

“The failsafes are in place, as per usual instruction. I have the tranquilizers at the ready. Staff are on hand to administer, and they’d been given the right dosage as per the briefing. The cage will hold, I’ve been told.” My stomach lurched. “I believe. The handlers said it would. This is going to work.” I pressed another button, and focused a camera on Dahlia’s face. Her eyes were so dark, black on the colored screen and watching the leaden gates as if she knew full well what they intended. 

“I admire the chill in your confidence. You don’t sound like you’re about to be unhinged, so that puts my mind at ease. And the fact that this isn’t some hippy bullshit is what I like most about this. This is a true experiment.” He slapped his hands together and grinned. I glanced to him, and noted the mad glint in his eye. So put together, with that gel, and those whitened teeth. And yet I could see myself so clearly. I wondered if he was just as afraid as I was. “If you’re so certain this is going to work, then let’s traumatize the girl. Get to it.” 

I grabbed the mic. My fingers shook when I turned it on, but my voice was calmer than I thought capable of. 

“Is everyone at the ready?” 

A maintenance workers gave me a thumbs up from the side of the platform. Staff at each of the slits looked up with their tranquilizer guns and nodded. I looked up to the observation deck and made note of the smiles and nods of the researchers looking so intently on their own screens in the room. I supposed an observation deck was useless in a situation that required a heavy leaden cage. 

A useless fluid thought that I quickly discarded, I flipped the switch that opened the doors in front of Dahlia. Darkness flooded the room. 

I looked through the screen to see Dahlia’s face in the night vision green-tinted light. She held the cat tighter in her arms at the sudden loss of sight. There was the tiniest glow of residual light from behind her, the glint from another camera, but that offered nothing comforting. Ahead of her, the lead doors opened, wide, like a maw beckoning her closer. In her small, cramped little cage she glared down that hole as if she dared it to speak. 

Then it did. 

A slow, moaning cry echoed like a ghost’s whine throughout the leaden cage. The hair on the back of my neck grew to attention when I heard it over the speaker. Beside me, Henry was watching with his nose practically glued to the screen. It was low, long, and deep. The end of it was punctuated by a clicking, hitching breath, like bone grinding against bone. 

“What is this supposed to be?” Dahlia demanded. She looked around for the nearest security camera, and I changed screens to find the one she’d chosen. 

She was mad. Enraged. Her brows twisted into an inhuman frown. Her cat was uncomfortably entangled in her grasp. “You’re going to give me to some monster? Subjecting me to some kind of gas? Just tell me. If you’re going to torture me, I at least want to know what it is.” 

I moved to change the loudspeaker to her cage, but Laurent stopped my hand. 

“The least you can do is follow your own code,” he argued. Slowly, reluctantly, I removed a trembling hand and resigned myself to watching Dahlia’s furious expression as it turned back to the moaning world beyond the pale of the gates of hell. 

The moan echoed again, an unyielding, petrifying thing. Moderators on site stepped away from the screen and speakers with nervous laughs. Dahlia pressed her body forward towards that empty hole in the world and yelled into its void. 

“Just get out here and do the damned experiment!” She growled. “Torture me already! Do what you have to do!” 

A swath of pale, weeping flesh molded into the shape of a bird’s claw breached through that darkness to take a step towards Dahlia’s vision. The camera could pick it up easily with the night vision, but Dahlia must have barely been able to catch it in the gloom of her cell. 

As tall as Dahlia herself, that mismatched organ slowly pressed down onto the floor of that metal box. The squelching of raw flesh against metal was audible, even through the speaker. Blood ran in rivulets where the appendage ended, the claw pressing down with a soft, groaning wail as the creature then propelled itself forward with another step. 

It was living. Stripped of flesh, claws little more than rotting flesh bringing forth a bloated, distended humanoid body, muscles atrophied and liquefying with ever step, that beast was alive. Its eyes were yellow, full of confusion, pain and hatred as it stared at the little girl locked in the cage. Hair sprouted from the creature’s head in patches, fistfuls gone from the bright pink flesh that showed parts of its skull. The hole where its nose had once been drew closer to the girl, until that giant was eye level with the sacrifice it had been left. Fetid breath encumbered forth from a lip-less mouth of muscle and fat, and when he opened it, jagged, pointed teeth guarded a great fat tongue as red as the flesh about the sockets of his eyes. 

The skinned, decaying giant grinned. 

Dahlia fell back against the cage. 

A pained, curling wail echoed from his hole of a mouth. The sockets about his eyes shifted and the muscles twitched as he looked from camera to camera. The beast took another crawling step forward. With it, the rest of him came into view. A slather of blood, flesh and fat dripped off of the body as the bones that were his knees drew up under his body to support the worm filled, heavy mass of flesh that threatened to slough off from his frame. Feet long since turned to bone and half gone from decay trailed uselessly after them. It was his hands that he used to keep going, one great claw bringing itself down upon the tiny cage with a pained huff as he tried to get at the girl. 

Decayed flesh dripped through the bars and landed in her hair. 

Dahlia stared up at the beasts’ heavy, gnarled voice and held the cat as tight as she could. She beheld the nightmare of death above her inches away from her face. The smell was safely contained in the cell, but there was no escaping the taste of decay on one’s tongue so close to the source. 

The teeth clawed against jaw bone instead of gum. The strange, guttural tongue of a voice box working on its last legs made the entire room shiver. Dahlia said nothing. Or perhaps she did, but the camera couldn’t pick it up. She couldn’t look away from those eyes, the heartrate on the monitor rising to levels dangerously close to the previous experiment. I turned back to the screen intently, looking for any sign of those familiar streaks of color. 

As the giant’s decaying body enveloped the cage, the lights above our heads outside the box began to flicker. The lights in the box began to glow, brighter and brighter, until the full deformity of a flawed mythological giant in it’s final stages of decay was shown to the eyes of the little girl. Quickly, I switched the security cameras away from night vision as the sharp and blinding light nearly destroyed my retinas. A scream echoed from the girl, just as the creatures’ fist slammed into the cage that held her. The creak of straining metal followed. 

“Pallas, was it?” Henry asked from beside me. His eyes were wide as he beheld the creature, the faintest grin on his face. The girl’s eyes were filled with tears, her entire body squished to the bottom of the cage, but she couldn’t hide away from the screams and howls of the monster that desperately tried to rip her cage apart. He gnashed his teeth, slammed his fist down again and again, screeched loud enough to wake the dead, and the staff on hand held their hands up against their ears and looked between each other with fear on their faces. The lead did nothing to muffle the screams inside that were right beside it. The only thing separating us from that monster was a thing box of lead. Laurent grinned away at that screen and watched. “What is he?” 

“A giant,” I said quietly. I held my breath, in hopes it would keep my stomach at bay. “The flayed giant. Didn’t you read the report?” 

“Reading isn’t my job.” 

The monster wasn’t stopping. The creature slammed its fist into the cage again, his knife-like teeth biting through the bars to try and get at the juicy morsel inside. The recorder picked up the human screams of Dahlia and the cat like yowls of Remmy with a distorted, gut wrenching accuracy. I kept waiting to see the color starting to drip from her eyes, willing it to happen, my fists clenched by the buttons that changed the camera’s position. My throat was closing up, listening to the screams that I couldn’t help. That I caused. 

“He’s a giant from Sicily. Some kind of god offspring, supposedly. Caught in the late thirties. Went on a rampage of a small town, supposedly woken by construction. The legend says Athena skinned him alive to make her aegis. Then he was supposed to have turned to stone by the Medusa. Obviously, he shook it off.” The words left my mouth like bullets. I couldn’t turn my eyes away from the screen.

The giant had managed to dent the titanium cage that held the terrified little girl. Dahlia had screamed herself hoarse, and the faintest flow of color trickled over those terrified whites of eyes, followed by tears of pain. The lights began to flicker above our heads. 

“Wonder if your Greek philosophers have anything to say about that,” he chuckled, then paused. The main slicked back his gel hair, not even pausing to glance above us at the danger. “Hey, is that color? Is it working?” 

Overhead, the lights sputtered once more, then broke into sharp white that sparked over the rest of the maintenance team. I ignored the shocked yelling from our staff as each light blew out above us after intense, blinding white light. The sparks rained down over Laurent and I, but I didn’t move. Darkness enveloped the facility, then the dull glow of backup lighting turned on and began to flicker as well. It was all so familiar. 

“Yes,” I muttered, and my heart dropped. “But it’s not enough.” 

The flow was so papery thin, falling over the floor of the cage and dissipating into whatever raw unused power became. Perhaps it churned back into the source, perhaps that power left the Editor completely. Whatever it did, that power’s source wasn’t overflowing like she should have been. But she was still screaming, and it wasn’t for Pallas. The little girl was clutching at her own eyes, screaming in utter agony as the colors flowed between her fingers and spread over the cage itself. Aura, power leaked from her crying eyes that were bloodshot and pained. It was still there, I could feel it, that power that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, that made us all feel we were in the middle of a magnetic field, that made my heart lurch like I was standing on the precipice of a cliff only an inch from falling, but we didn’t fall, and she could go no further. There wasn’t enough for her to create anything. This wasn’t the first experiment. This was only the tip of what she was capable of, and she couldn’t overcome the crippling pain that debilitated her and led her to ignore her own impending demise. 

The colors seeped, the giant yelled, swatted at the luminescent aura, and snarled as he slammed another first directly down on the cage that had been built to last. The son of Gaia was stronger than any of us could have imagined, despite the undead nature. Another smash, and the cage had nearly caved. The harsh crack of metal against bone echoed through the audio feedback, and my hands sweat. The cat turned to the giant on the screen, yowled as loud as he could with his hair standing on end, and Dahlia just cried and cried, clutching at her own face until blood seeped from her forehead where her nails had dug into her skin. Big, fat tears dripped onto her overalls, the blues and greens entangling around her as the red and yellow tendrils tried to stretch out further in the lead box and got nowhere. This wasn’t the orchestral, beautiful display of power we’d seen before. This was pitiful. 

“It’s not enough,” I sobbed, and slammed my head against the keyboard. 

“But look at this,” Laurent argued. Another slam of metal against bone echoed from the screen. “She’s got the powers. What if we gave her to that thing? Maybe the danger would be greater then. We give it what it wants, and she gets to kill the thing with her powers. It’s not like we need him. Let that raw strength kill that son of a bitch.” 

“She’d die. She’s just a child. She’s no god.” My knees felt weak. I couldn’t watch any longer. The realization of just what I was doing was starting to sink through, and now amount of barrier could keep that back anymore. “We need to end this.”

“But we’re so close!” He grabbed me by the collar, with a wild look in his eyes. “If we gave it to her, let it go further, let this experiment go on a little longer, she could get those powers. She could be a god and we wouldn’t have to keep doing this anymore!” He yelled louder than the monster, towering over me with gelled hair in all directions and a shirt creased and untucked. 

“Please,” I whimpered pathetically. “She’s going to get hurt.” 

He slowly pulled away from my shirt, his hands shaking, then he turned to the screen and ran a hand through his ruined hair, his eyes focused on the giant on the screen. “Why are you begging me? This is your experiment.” He turned a cold, condescending glare down at me. His voice was breathy, his shoulders clenched. I stared at him in disbelief. “But you best be aware what this will mean for the next experiment.” 

“I can’t…”

“You were trying to pull a fast one on me, weren’t you Jen? You know she needs pain.” 

“She doesn’t.” 

“What about that hurdle of yours?” Slam went the first. Another scream, another yowl, and the yelling of a request for orders from the handlers of the giant. “You know what this means. You know what you have to do next.” 

“I know,” I muttered. I slowly picked myself up from the console, gasping for shaky breaths, then nodded the okay for tranquilizers as I slammed the button down for the light to return to the box. Not that it did much, the power from the screaming little girl made them spark and go vibrantly bright and break before they could frighten and disorient the giant into stopping its attack. 

It was the fifty tranquilizers delivered into its rotting side that made it fall over a minute later, the hissing, angry groan being the last thing to leave its mouth. Then it went down with a heavy, sickening squelch, and the radio went quiet. 

And then it was the sobs. The sobs, and watching the color disappear on the screen, along with the light it had offered in the dim metal nightmare of a cage. 

The door to the cage swung open for the handlers in bio-hazard suits to enter and like clockwork, they pushed Pallas back into his cell. Dahlia curled in upon herself as they flew past her, none of them pausing to look her way. 

Associates walked in as soon as the all clear was given. Shouts for paramedics were given to check on Dahlia’s condition as soon as she could be removed. The cage took a welder to unlock it. Dahlia’s dead eyes watched the sparks with her fingernails still dug into her forehead. 

Then Dahlia stumbled out, fell to the floor, and wretched. 

I didn’t approach her. Laurent had on hand on my wrist, the other pointing to specific aspects of the recording he was already starting to play back in front of us, and I watched as on sight first aid were the ones to administer medical attention to her. She pushed them back, yelled at them to leave her, and the cat in front of her hissed and swatted as the men backed away with raised hands. 

She pulled herself slowly to her shaking feet, wiped her mouth, then took a step forward and fell again. I flinched. Laurent was laughing, chatting about the extent of the colors and what it would mean for the next experiment, but I couldn’t look away from Dahlia hobbling her way out of the cell. The cat followed her step for step as she crawled out of the leaden box. Decay dripped from her hair, her skin, her clothes were stained yellow with rendered fat. The scent of death followed her, her small body struggling to the end of the leaden cage and then slowly dropping off that edge with a pained moan. The paramedics went to her aid then, and this time she didn’t have the energy to struggle. They did their job, and she resigned herself to looking over at my station. 

Her eyes locked with mine. Fresh tears dripped from her eyes. I clenched the dashboard. The anger was gone now. All that was left, was fear. Fear, betrayal, and pain. 

I had to turn away, and wipe the tears from my own eyes. Laurent was talking to me. He must have been saying something important, he was animated as ever, grinning that blinding white smile, chatting like we’d known each other for years. That same way he always spoke, like he knew something that I didn’t and he was going to have to explain it to me like I was stupid. 

I didn’t hear a word. I already knew what this meant. That all of the fantasy was over, all the play time was gone. We couldn’t keep pretending that there were any other options to see this to the very end. We couldn’t keep thinking like we were better than that option, like we had any other choice. There never was a choice. And Laurent knew that. Everyone else around me was perfectly aware of what I was going to have to do. I was surrounded by people that knew, that were aware of what it meant, and I was the only one that kept dragging my feet. 

Laurent put a hand around my shoulder, said something I couldn’t hear, but I nodded anyways. 

“What kind of torture?” I asked. “Electric shock?” 

Above us, the scientists packed up on the observation deck with their recorders still in hand, chatting amongst themselves over the entertainment they’d just witnessed. Laurent’s eyes lit up with a smile. 

“Whatever works.”


	19. Chapter 19

Dahlia 

I fell into the holding facility, my hands barely coming out to break my fall. The door stood open a moment longer for one of the paramedics to argue with the security officer who had let me fall, but then they relented with a sigh with the results staring them back in the face. There was nothing physically wrong with me. Superficial scrapes against my skull were nothing. Whatever psychological damage I’d faced wasn’t the priority here. They were arguing among themselves as to whether or not they should bother. So what if I could barely walk, it was shock. They’d already done all they could. I was fighting them every step of the way. They couldn’t do anything to someone that refused treatment. And there were doughnuts in the staff room, they couldn’t miss those. 

They slammed the metal door closed with a muffled, mechanical thud, and then their shouts faded away to nothing. 

Pyrim slowly approached me from the corner of the room he’d fled to. His tail drooped, his eyes big with worry. He tentatively reached a paw out to tenderly press against my cheek. 

“Dahlia?” He asked. I didn’t move. His tail flicked back and forth. “Dahlia, are you alright? Talk to me. You don’t look well.” His voice was just as annoying as before. I brushed his paw to the side and slowly began my crawl towards the bathroom. 

Each movement forward made the rest of my body creak like a long forgotten cage left sunken at the bottom of the ocean. I lost my footing, lurched forwards, and fell back down against the floor with another thud. The floor was frigid, unforgiving and hard. No different from the metal of the cage, no less cold. The torn trees on the walls tormented me, cartoonish drawings looming over me and beckoning me to a world that wasn’t reachable. Pyrim followed along beside me with a quiet gasp. He trotted back up to me, ducking his head in close and flicking his ears back. 

“Dahlia, talk to me, we have to talk, there has to be a way around this.” He crawled under my arm and batted my cheek. “We can’t go through another one of these, so let’s figure out a way to get out of here. Your body can’t take it. I have some ideas, maybe we could try something out before they get back here. We could be safe again, but we just need to talk this through. Please, say something. Anything.” 

I threw him to the side of the wall, and climbed to my feet with the help of the wall. My fingers scrabbled to hold onto it. The cat went careening back, slamming against the side and going silent for a moment before starting to whimper. He was a shivering, shaking, pathetic mess. Weak. With the breath knocked out of him, he was stuck on his side, unable to move, or get in my way. I was still walking. I nearly fell again, gripping the walls with nails that had been ripped to shreds from digging into my skin, mottled claws with notches in each of them. Then I found the open door to the bathroom. 

I fell onto the floor again. This time, I was in front of the sink, staring at the floor that reminded me of a fast food restaurant. I grabbed the door to the cupboard, then the cheap counter, then stretched my muscles out to reach for the door knob to pick me back up onto my feet. 

Pyrim was in front of me again, on the ground and crying out. He’d crawled all the way here, just like me, an inch worm. “I was there too, Dahlia. I know what it was like. We have to talk. You can’t keep this in. No one can. You’re going to break. Please. I’m scared.” 

I turned around to look at the bathroom mirror.

Bags under eyes every color of the rainbow, hair broken and scraggly and rotten, and a face the color of paper. Cheeks sunken away to nothing. Tear tracts that wouldn’t disappear. And my eyes. My eyes the color of rainbows, about to break into tears again. Bloodshot and dead, and terrified. 

It hurt. 

“How could she do this,” I muttered to the mirror. “How could she.” Fresh tears dripped into the sink. “How could she hurt me like this.” 

“Dahlia, she’s a monster. We can’t stay here.” 

“We don’t have any other option.” I slowly managed to get a little bit of strength under my feet, so I brought my hands slowly up to my face. Everything burned. They couldn’t see it, but it burned, all of it burned and it just wouldn’t stop. It was still there. I couldn’t turn off the color. It was still there and I couldn’t stop seeing it at every corner, everywhere I looked. I was nothing, an absence of color, but I could see it in Pyrim, I could see it in the men that had left me in this damned cell, and I’d seen it in Jennifer, the way it had started to fade to black. And I couldn’t stop seeing it. Everywhere I looked it was there, jamming my vision with its presence and twisting and turning my brain to mush with the strength of all creation. The ringing in my ears, the blood rushing to every fibre of my being, the unexplainable reactions that the paramedics would never be able to diagnose. Otherworldly. 

I screamed into the mirror. The punch made my fingers bleed, but I didn’t care. I punched it again, and again, and again and I couldn’t see anything but color, anything but pain, but creation and I couldn’t make it stop. 

I feel back against the floor and dimly heard the frightened shouts of Pyrim as he rushed over to me. 

“Make it stop,” I cried softly. “Make it stop. I just want it to stop hurting.” 

“It’s over, Dahlia. The experiment is over, there’s no more pain. It’s okay.” He pressed his little body up against my side, and I shoved him away. I couldn’t be touched right now. Everything was so small. I was in the tiniest cage, and I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t get out, and the clangs of metal and bone still rang in my head and I couldn’t stop screaming because it wasn’t even the memories that tore through me. The monster was about me about to snuff out my life and I was begging, screaming at him to do it. I couldn’t live like this. I couldn’t exist with a world inside my head. I didn’t want to be an Editor anymore. I just wanted to be a kid. 

The color was pain. 

The color was always pain. 

There was too much of it inside me, too much creation, too much power, and my mind would never be able to accommodate for that. 

I heaved another sob, but the migraine remained. I held my hands against my head, and pushed. Push out the color, get it out of my head, that’s all I wanted. If I could just scrape into my brain and tug out the strands of creation that destroyed everything it touched, then maybe I could go back to my life before. I could be myself and I wouldn’t have to consider the emotions that wouldn’t stop swirling. I wouldn’t have to think about Charlie or mom or the psychologist or Miranda or everyone else. I wouldn’t need to care anymore. 

“I don’t want this, anymore,” I whimpered. “It’s too much. I won’t be able to survive this. I can’t live like this. It hurts too much. I hurt too much.” 

“You’ll be alright,” Pyrim tried to say. He wasn’t telling the truth. I knew what that truth was. I knew what everything was. I could see the way the color flickered, the way he spoke changing the shape of the aura to accommodate a lie. That green that flashed and flickered around him and showed his very essence. It burned my retinas. I knew everything inside his little head if I looked for it, the fear, the need for escape, the honest worry for my own safety. And the love. The unconditional love I didn’t deserve having. 

I clutched at tearful eyes. 

“You’ll be alright, we just have to get through this together. You’re an Editor, right? We just have to find a way around it. Just a way to make it stop hurting.” 

“There’s nothing.” I shoved my head into my knees and screamed. “There’s nothing, it hurts and I can’t make it stop. It won’t go away. It’s overflowing and I can’t… I can’t…” I couldn’t remember if it was a memory of the pain, or if I still felt it, deep within my bones. I couldn’t decide what it was. I couldn’t remember my name. I couldn’t think of anything now, anything but color that streamed down my eyes like tears. The building blocks of the universe were inside my head and they were tearing me apart. 

Pyrim found himself in my lap, and I found myself unconscious. 

Sweet, silent darkness. An absence of anything. Sleep never tasted so sweet. 

….

When I was awake, I was staring up at the ceiling with my heart beating low, and slow. Pyrim was asleep too, his jaw resting against my wrist. My back hurt. 

I took a deep breath, and pressed a hand up against my face to wipe away the tears. 

“Dahlia?” Pyrim asked in a haze of exhaustion. “What time is it?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” 

The cat stretched slowly, then pressed closer up against me with a small purr meant comfort me. “You’re safe now, at least.” 

“We’re not safe here. They’re going to put us through another experiment. It’s going to happen soon.” 

“But for now…” 

“We can’t play with the idea of for now. There’s going to be a next time, so we might as well think of the next time.” I clenched my hand into a fist. “They’re going to hurt me again.”

“What about escape?” 

I glared down at him. “What could we do?” 

“Maybe… Distract them.” His ears folded back. He knew how stupid that was.

“They have armed guards, with tranquilizers. We’d never make it.” 

“Then fight them.” 

“With what?” 

“Your powers.” I flinched. 

“No. They don’t work.” 

“But before, you had a strength that you don’t have now. If we could practice, maybe…” Even he didn’t sound convinced. 

“It doesn’t work like that.” I lay back against the wall and relished the dull pain of my back straining. “My powers are going to kill me.” I stroked a hand over where my fingers had dug into my forehead, and winced. My hand dropped, landed on Pyrim’s back, and began to stroke. The purr that bubbled out from his little body did little to quiet my nerves. “Those colors are too much for a human brain. I can’t keep something like that inside me. When we get over that hurdle, it’s going to kill me. My mind is going to fry, and I’m not going to be able to live in that. I’m going to die when they finish this experiment. And maybe that’s for the best.” I hardened my jaw. “What else would happen, torture?” 

Pyrim tensed up in my lap. 

“What?” I asked. 

“There has to be another way.” 

“You’re just biased because you’ll die too.” 

“Well of course I’m biased! I don’t want to die! I just became alive!” 

“It doesn’t matter,” I mumbled. “If I’m gone, then you’ll have no one, right?” He turned over onto his side, his ears flicked back and his eyes narrowed. 

“I can’t lose you.” I knew just how sincere he was. I’d seen it with my own two eyes. I could remember caring about it. And yet, there was a black spot where I’d been crying for him before. All I seemed to care about now was stroking that fear to calm myself down, and making him squirm when I played with his tail. It was clear to me now, what they meant by hollow. His kind of love wasn’t something I was capable of. It was so passionate, and… Stupid. 

“We don’t have any other option,” I muttered. “This is the end of the line. They’re not going to listen to me. They know it hurts, but they don’t know how far it goes, they’re just going to keep going, experiment after experiment, until they drive me crazy or kill me. And they’re not going to believe what I say. Even if I am right. No one ever listens. We’re doomed.”

“There has to be another way.” 

“There’s no other way. I can’t do anything. They’re not playing fair.” 

“You’re a GOD, Dahlia! You’re the editor!” He jumped up on his paws, clambering up onto his hind legs to try pinning me by my shoulders. A talking cat shouting in my face. It hurt my ears. My mouth twitched. “There has to be a way out of this! You have the ability to do ANYTHING, so do it! You have the world at your fingertips and you want to give up?! You?! You’re Dahlia – you’re a psychopath meant to only care about yourself, don’t you have any sense of self preservation? Make something the next time they do that to you! Figure out a way to get out of there! Use your powers to leave! To make yourself free of those colors! To make yourself painless! Make yourself the god they want you to be!” 

I stared at the cat’s desperate maw, half open from yelling. Bright green eyes full of fear, for the both of us. I reached out to stroke his head. 

“And their failsafes?” 

“Have they ever dealt with a God before? No tranquilizer in the world could hold you hostage. You have the whole of creation in your head and you think something like that could stop you? No chains, no ropes, no metal could hold you down. You’re my Editor.” He twisted his mouth into a feline grin, as best as a face like that could manage. “Your only limitations are your own imagination.” 

“That’s easy for you to say, when nothing is pressing down on your brain.” I pushed him back down into my lap. “Okay.” I looked up at the ceiling, and sighed. “I have an idea. But I don’t know what’s going to happen when they do it again. I can’t think straight when they tear me apart like that. I can’t form coherent ideas. I’m not even sure how I made you. But if I focus on one thing, just one, then maybe we’ll find a way to get out of this. And get away.” 

“What idea?” 

“Stop the colors.” I tugged his tail, and listened to him squawk. “Stop the pain.” He settled down then, a purring cloud in my lap, but I stared at the mirror from the floor of the bathroom a little longer. 

Something churned in the pit of my stomach. 

…..

The lights were bright and blinding along the hallways, marking the trail down to the familiar set of doors. On either side of me, guards with tranquillizer guns slung over their shoulders and clenched jaws focused ahead so as not to see the child they forced forward. A cat walking ahead of me, his tail between his legs, his step faint and nervous, every hair on his back up like a bristled brush. Glancing back at me with wide, worried eyes. I held my gaze with the door. If I was to go to my damnation, I’d go with dignity, and focus on the slim threads of a plan that could very well kill me as much as save me. And so I walked. 

I opened the doors to the end of the world, and looked for the monster they intended to kill me with. I didn’t expect torture so simple. 

A room, a table, and an oddly familiar machine beside it, reminding me of a hospital. Knobs and dials and wires everywhere. Just a few milling about, paramedics on standby, and more security with guns holding the darts meant to keep me quiet. No chatter, and only a few of those labcoats on the observation deck, none of them looking particularly excited. Only as many as were needed for posterity. As soon as I entered the room, I could feel it. This was the end. 

And there she was, standing by an observation station with her eyes covered with dark circles and a crazed light in those pupils that kept the rest of her alive. Lank, oily hair, shaking fingers, and a smile on her face as she talked to her supervisor with his slicked back hair and his rolled sleeves, the outer suit tossed to the side. She looked my way and I watched her smile drop, and then her shoulders sag. Her supervisor tugged her back with a charming grin and playfully punched her shoulder as they went over the procedure again with the social chatter of two old friends catching up. 

Pyrim brushed up against my leg, and I let go of the fist I’d been clenching. I stood up straighter, ahead to the bed they intended to strap me down to, and walked to it.

It was cold, when I leapt onto it. The back was plastic, covered by a film that crinkled when I lay back and stared up at the ceiling. My cat jumped with me. He climbed to my chest, lay down with his claws digging into my overalls, and his eyes softened as he whispered by my ear. 

“We can do this.” 

I kept my mouth shut, but I held him as tight as I could until staff had to strap my arms and legs down. Then I stared up at the ceiling, focusing on the indent of Pyrim on my chest, his faint hisses when one of the maintenance workers tried to remove him, and then listened to the sound of footsteps. 

“It’s alright if he stays, he’s just a cat,” she said. “There’s nothing to him. Just get the pads on her, and we’ll get this started.” 

“You sound colder today,” I said. 

“I…” She trailed off. 

“No, don’t mess up. It doesn’t suit you. You’re supposed to be the villain, right?”

She sighed. “I’m sorry.” 

“Apologizing doesn’t change where I am right now.” Pyrim tried to purr. “You’re going to kill me today, aren’t you?” 

“What?” She gasped, as though I’d hit her. “No!” 

“But this is the end of the line, isn’t it?” I asked. “There’s almost no one here. This is the last one. There’s nothing special about this test, nothing left for you to experiment with. Except me. How far are you going to push it, to the end?” 

“I’m going to do what I need to do.” She took a step closer like a nervous doe, tentatively outstretching her hand only to lay it on my shoulder. I flinched away. “Dahlia, I’m sorry for this. I know it doesn’t mean much, but… In any other circumstance, under any other life, I wouldn’t have done this. I’m not…”

“A bad person?” 

“I didn’t – I didn’t mean – “ 

“No. You didn’t. Because I’m the bad person.” The ceiling’s lights danced in my vision. I could imagine it was the sun, shining down over my eyes, the day at the beach that I got to enjoy before I left. Swimming as deep out as I could, far out, past the adults that thought they were dangerous, trying to get to the middle of the lake. “I’m the psychopath who doesn’t care about people,” I said, and glanced over at the dials on the machine. “How is it going to kill me?” 

“It’s… Electroshock therapy. It should give jolts to the brain, to stimulate with… Pain.” 

“Stop trailing off and just tell me things. It’s like you’re dragging your feet into where you and I both know you’ll end up in the end.” I frowned at the machine, then turned back up to the bright lights again. “No one likes a villain that constantly second guesses themselves. Just tell me what you’re going to do to me. I don’t like surprises.” 

“Electroshock until your powers have manifested and stabilized. And then we’re going to detain you for study. That’s what we’re going to do. And if it doesn’t turn out… Then…” She held back the apology that I knew she wanted to say.

“Alright.” I sighed, and relaxed into the gurney as they began to stick pads over my body and around my head. I looked over at her, and saw her face. She was as pale as a ghost. Terrified. Tired. She held onto the machine with haunted eyes, afraid to look at me in case she broke down. She rubbed her arms. I could feel the regret, nearly see it. If I blinked, I could almost see the faint green at the edge of her body, flitting and fluttering with darkness invading its every pore. And then I blinked, and I was just a human with an overactive imagination. 

“Jennifer.” 

“Yes?” She was too quiet. 

“His name is Pyrim. My cat.” 

“Oh.” 

I looked back up at the ceiling again. I bit my lip, closed my eyes for a second, then opened them again and nothing had changed. I was still here, still stuck in this place, still about to hurt, because of a coward. 

“When this is over, you should talk to your wife,” I said. Jennifer stared. “If you’re going to do this, then there shouldn’t be anything left for you after. There’s no reason for you to stay here. So go talk to her. Start a family. And for god’s sake, or for mine, just grow a backbone.” 

“Dahlia- “ 

My mouth twisted. “Start the experiment.” 

I listened to the sound of her breath. A pause, a glance between us, and then reluctant footsteps fading away. Pyrim pushed closer, until his head was tucked under his chin. I could feel him shaking. It took me a second to realize I was too. The world was starting to look blurry. 

I pushed the edges of my mouth up slightly, until I was satisfied with how stretched they were. I wished I could see a mirror, because I was smiling as bright as anything with tears in my eyes. A real smile that I understood. I could do it right, just like anyone else. A grimace of fear, because I knew I was afraid, and I couldn’t yell at something to hurry up and kill me this time. There was nothing to yell at, no one to direct my fury. There was nothing but me and the ceiling that held all the promise of seeing another day, and knowing full well I wouldn’t. This was going to be the last thing I ever saw, if I didn’t have the strength to keep control of myself. This was the end. 

And I was smiling. I could smile. I could feel it inside me. A grimace against the world. None of this was fair. It shouldn’t have been me. And it was, and it had to be, because if it wasn’t me then it would have just been someone else, and they would be the one trying to find reason in this madness. And that’s what made me smile. 

Pyrim said something, but I didn’t hear it, because a sharp buzzing signaled the beginning of the experiment. I gulped.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jennifer said into the speaker. “I am Jennifer Miller, senior manager of Project Irongate. This will be the last experiment for the attempted manifestation of editorial powers on subject Editor 1. On the conclusion of a positive outcome, this project will continue into the next phase of development. On the conclusion of termination of the subject, a new subject will be procured, or else this project will be taken back to beginning stages. It is oh-eleven-hundred hours, and we are beginning with a slow shock that will transition into a stronger one. After intervals of this, if these have proven fruitless, we will continue to a stronger, lasting shock. Success of this project will include stabilized color and aura from the Editor, as well as the power of creation. Are the failsafes on standby?” She paused, and I glanced over to see a man with a gun give a thumbs up. “Are the researchers at the ready? Alright. Then, I suppose we can begin.” 

There was static, and then I heard her supervisor. “This is it, people!” He exclaimed. “We’re finally doing this. I’m sure the long road we’ve had has been tedious, but we’re finally here, and that’s the important part. Whatever happens, it’s been a pleasure.” He chuckled into the mic, then added, “and it’s good to see progress.” The speakers cut out, and the machine whirred. 

I left my eyes open. 

It wasn’t the pain that made me scream. It was the buzzing. 

The first time, a tone sounded, and I was made of sputtering sparks. I gaped, tensing and twitching on the mat and unable to move from the restraints. But my body wanted to. It threw itself against it, Pyrim nearly fell out of my lap, and I choked on my own tongue. The sound of buzzing was all around me, within me, and my eyes bulged, unable to cope. 

And then it was over, I fell back against the gurney, and gasped for breath as I struggled to understand what had just happened. My body was stiff, shaking, burning and it was difficult to breathe. 

There was a pause, a quiet whine from either Pyrim or I.

And then another jolt. 

The world went white, and for a second I didn’t exist. And then the pain was back, and I was biting hard on the inside of my gum as my body strained and flew against the restraints. I could taste blood, coppery as it mixed with the saliva to become a slurry of pink that escape from my mouth and spurted over the overalls that were already soaked with sweat. 

The pain grew. 

The jittering was stronger, the sharp burning sensation of my mind being turned to nothing so powerful that I could only gape and hiss where a scream should have been. 

I fell back against the gurney, gulped a breath of air in again, and then it was back. Flashes of white in my eyes danced with the lights as my mind struggled to form thoughts. I tried to grasp onto basic facts, my name, my mother, where I was, only to have them slip away with the burning pain that made it difficult to breathe.

And then the color came. 

The jolts came in waves now, quicker, stronger, in succession, Pyrim desperately clinging to me as the two of us fell into the pain and suffering without end. And it almost didn’t hurt as much as the color. The world around me changed, I saw the truth of what no one else could. The auras around me, so colorful and dark. A young woman with curled hair stood above all of us in her little observation chamber with terrified eyes and a clipboard held so loosely in her hand, an aura of pink soft pink flittering around her so bright and gentle. And the darkened, blackened colors of those with guns, some brighter than others. A dark red, a fully black, a soft navy blue, eyes hidden behind visors. Pyrim’s bright green glow that fluttered and trembled with the shocks that echoed from me. He must have been affected to. He must have been pained.

I could feel it too, under all of it. He was hurting, nearly as much as me. The two of us were locked together, neither able to get up, to move, to even think.

Between that color, that energy, I tried so hard to see through the pain. There was a plan, I knew there was, if only I could remember what it was. Pyrim had told me something. Hadn’t he? What was his name? I could dimly feel the shocks now. They’d only grown, but I seemed so much further away. My eyes cried ceaselessly, bugged and staring at the world with newer, pained eyes that burned with leaking creation. Somewhere far away I could hear the sound of someone choking on their own tongue. Jennifer stared at the screen with a smudged viridescent glow. And Laurent was yellow. A dark, mustard yellow, faded to brown that held his hands and flew around and behind him like a nervous child. He was so impatient. Scared. He wanted something desperately enough that I wasn’t even the focus. 

I closed my eyes and I felt the fluttering of my heart that seemed to beat so irregularly. There were warning signals from the machine. Jennifer didn’t focus on that, she told me she wouldn’t stop, didn’t she? I don’t think anyone was paying attention. I wasn’t. I wasn’t sure where I was anymore, but then I was watching myself on the floor, full of light and color and burning, searing pain, fading to nothing.

There was a part of me dying. 

I was so close, on the precipice, and I was fading away. I couldn’t feel the tips of my fingers. I couldn’t taste the coppery blood anymore. I couldn’t see much more than a tunnel of bright light in my vision. I couldn’t feel Pyrim’s familiar, comforting weight on my lap. 

I closed my eyes and wished it would stop hurting so much. If I was going to die, then I wanted to die in peace. I just wanted to fade away into lacking existence instead of this sharp pain that seared through my forehead and was the one thing keeping me tied to this world. I didn’t want the ache of colors that flowed from my own eyes and made me see things I didn’t care to see. I didn’t want this machine that sent shocks that changed the beat of my heart and made Pyrim hurt. 

I just wanted to be free. To stop hurting, and be free. We needed to be free. 

Could I think of that? Could I make that? Did I have the energy left to change something so inherent when I didn’t have the energy to open my eyes, to breathe, to think in more than tiny patches? Could I craft something from the color that would kill the very thing I made? Color couldn’t kill color, could it? I was asking for destruction from creation.

But then, Pyrim was right. 

I was the Editor.

I could do what I pleased. 

I imagined myself looking into the void of bright and unyielding color, and I asked for it. I cried out into the world of creation leaking from my mind, and I yelled at it, I demanded a way out. It had to bend to my will, I was the one in charge of it, it wouldn’t be able to live without me, I was meant to be the shaper, not the other way around. If it wanted to continue to persist, it had to listen to me. People needed to listen me. I was the one with the answers, after all. 

I screamed into the void. 

And the void spoke back.

“Who are you?” It asked. 

It could talk. It could hear me. And it should have known who I was. It was the color, wasn’t it? I was meant to be its master. I didn’t know what to say. 

“I don’t know who you are, and I don’t think I know what I am either, sorry. I’m… I’m scared.” 

I was, too. 

“Where are we? This color… This place is strange.” 

Wasn’t this the color? I didn’t know. I’d just… Made it. I thought I needed to talk. I thought this was the only way to get what I wanted.

“Where are you?” 

Not with you. Away, far, far away, in a world where I had the body of a little girl and I was in so much pain that the world was spinning. I needed help. 

“Can I come to you? I want to help – I think I know you, I feel like I do.” 

Please. We don’t have much time. Pyrim is fading away, and I am too. There’s too much pain, I can’t breathe. 

“There’s a barrier, I can’t – It’s hard to push through. It’s like it’s trying to keep me out. Can you help me?” 

I’m trying. It’s hard. I can’t think straight. 

“These colors, they’re so strange. Can you see them too?” 

They are me. Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t know where my mind is. 

“I don’t like them. Please, keep trying. I feel like I’m getting through, but it’s difficult. It’s trying to push me back out. It doesn’t like me either.” 

I’m almost there, but I keep slipping. There’s not much time and I think I’m about to die. No, I will. This machine they have me hooked up to, it’s destroying me. I keep pulling, and you’re pushing, but I’m fading, the pain is too much, I can’t think - the colors are breaking me apart, and I’m turning to dust and please, please just stop the pain. I can’t stop crying. Please. Stop the colors. I need you. 

“I’m here.” 

I opened my eyes, and saw it for the first time. 

A face, whiter than snow, smudges for eyes as black as coal with the faintest sparks of white for a pupil. A simple, oval for a head, no mouth, no nose, and soft. Its long, slender hands placed themselves gently around my cheeks, and I breathed out slowly, once, then twice, and closed my eyes of my own volition. 

There was no pain. I was floating. 

I could see everything, feel everything, and there was no pain.

“What the hell is this?! What is that monster? What’s it doing? Where’s my color?” Laurent ran out from the observation deck, tripping and falling over himself before he could get halfway there. He rose back up in a huff, his eyes wild as he gawked at me and the creature that held my head so tenderly behind the gurney. “What about the machine? It should be working! It’s supposed to be on full blast!”

The murmur from the security and maintenance erupted. The machine blinked, fluttering on full blast with electrical signals flowing into me. I didn’t feel a thing. 

Pyrim followed my eyes to that creature and stared at it in disbelief. The thing looked back in quiet curiosity at the cat, fingers still gently holding onto my temples with the lightest touch. The white hue of his hands caused the dripping color surrounding us to back away, like a hissing animal. In it’s place was light, and quiet solace. Pyrim opened his mouth as wide as anything in a hearty, human laugh as he pushed his head up against my neck. 

“You did it, Dahlia!” He exclaimed. “You actually did it! I knew you could!” 

“Who’s Dahlia?” I pondered. 

“I don’t know,” The creature answered. There was no mouth for it to speak from. Its face merely looked at me, and the words resonated in my head. It dropped its face down beside the two of us with wide, uncertain eyes. The pinpricks of pupils settled on me. “What do we do now?” 

“I don’t know.” The straps that had held me down turned to dust when I was so focused on the goal of hugging Pyrim as tightly as I could. The creature behind me nervously pushed itself in between us, settling on the gurney with one long, white tendril of an arm curling around us. I leaned into the oddly familiar frame, and found myself shaking again. 

“Thank you,” I mumbled around its chest. It towered over me, a shining, bright white thing. The creature ducked its head sheepishly. 

“I just wanted to make you happy,” it said. “Are we safe?” The creature turned its head up to the maintenance and security team. They were closing in on us, all of them uncertain and full of fear. The machine behind us was buzzing louder than ever. An automatic announcement over the PA system called in for backup. There were already more men approaching from the hallway into the experimental facility, their riot shields complimenting their heavily armored suits. 

“I don’t know.” I fell in closer with the creature, and gripped Pyrim tightly. 

Pyrim’s ear twitched. “How do you feel?” 

“Strong.” He nodded, and purred. 

“Then we’re safe.” 

“Dahlia!” The yell echoed across the facility, loud and male. Jennifer stared at me with wide eyes, just behind Laurent’s disbelieving, twisted expression. His mustard yellow aura was filled with something that upset my stomach. One of the guards dispersed from the main group and rushed over to them, placing an arm on Laurent’s shoulder to try and lead him out of the room, only for the member of the Board to pull away and start towards me. 

“Sir,” the officer began, but Laurent wasn’t listening.

My face fell, and I held Pyrim tightly. The fear was growing in my stomach, and all the creatures holding me tightly and cats purring in my lap wouldn’t be able to hold that back. I wanted to leave. We shouldn’t stay here. 

“I don’t know a Dahlia. I’m the Editor.” 

“Editor,” Laurent said. His voice cracked. He walked a little farther, stumbled between the boots of security with their guns at the ready, and fell to his knees to stare up at me in entranced awe. Like a pitiful slug, he crawled towards me on his hands and knees, his jelled hair a mess pushed to the side and giving him the appearance of grease personified. “Now that we've done what we've set out to do, it's up to you to accomplish what we can't. Please, if you have mercy, bring back my sister. She died too young, she should be alive to see this. Please, she was strong, and she didn’t deserve to die in sickness.” 

I bit my lip, and hid against the creature’s chest. “No.” 

His face fell, then twisted into rage. "How DARE you?" The first tranquilizer hit my shoulder head on. I flinched at the pain, then pulled it out to stare at it. A wave of exhaustion hit me, and the creature tried to steady me as I groaned. I looked back at the terrified security officer with the black aura that thought himself the arbiter of justice. I grit my teeth, glared at him, and willed that drug to leave me. I could feel it dripping out of me, disappearing from my system as the rage replaced it. Fear prickled, intermingled with it, and tears prickled at the edges of my eyes that were entirely unwarranted. I didn’t want to cry in front of them, but they were so… Mean.

“What is this supposed to be?” I asked as I held it up to the guard. “Are you stupid? Something like this is just going to piss me off.” I threw it to the ground, dangled my legs down, then dropped onto the facility’s floor. 

“Men, hold back!” I heard among the crowd. “Do not fire unless I give the signal!” 

Laurent tried again. “You can’t do this! You have to listen to us, that’s the way it’s supposed to work! You have to do what we say, that’s what this is for! Forget remaking the world, whatever the board says, just give me back my sister!” Snarling, he got shakily to his feet. “That’s all I wanted. That's the entire goddamn reason I'm still in this screwed up mess when I could have been back in Bali. Spending billions of dollars on this Company and on whatever pills I could get just to stay alive long enough to find the answer to the problems I've had my entire life. She shouldn't have died - I shouldn't even have to be here dealing with you now, but here I am BEGGING on my goddamn knees like some kind of servant! And now you're telling me NO!? Screw the other members of the Board. Just give her back, and you can do what you want. You want money? Fame? I'll give you want you want. Just give her BACK!”

“Dahlia,” Jennifer breathed. 

Another tranquilizer hit me, in the neck this time. An order from the head of security had another volley hitting me. I pulled it out, threw it to the ground, and got hit with three more. There was yelling, their riot shields coming closer and closer, and I held myself tightly, watched the next one shoot out at me, and watched it crinkle to a tiny speck in midair before dropping to the ground a foot away. 

The others followed suit. 

"No, you idiots! We need her! She have to listen!" Laurent ran in front of me with his eyes a wild mess of rage, only to be hit in the crossfire. He slumped to the ground with a hiss still on his mouth.

I stared into the face of the man behind the visor that had thought he could hurt me. He didn't look any different than any other man I'd ever met.

“We should go,” Pyrim said quickly. He jumped to my shoulder, then to the creature’s unsteadily. “Now.” The shields were gathering closer. The announcement system over the PA threatened knockout gas.

“But-“ I turned to Jennifer, but then the sound of a siren went off, and the remaining civilians grew to hysteria as they headed for the rapidly closing doors in the midst of lock-down. 

I stared at Jennifer’s face. She took a step back, then another, her eyes wide and frightened. And awed. 

She smiled at me, as much as she could, then took off running. 

“Where would we go?” I asked Pyrim. “Where can we?” 

“Away from here. This world, any of this.” 

“Can I do that?” 

“You can do anything you want. You’re an Editor.” 

“What’s an Editor?” The creature asked. I tugged on its arm and smiled. 

“We’ll have to figure that out.” 

The gas was released as the security in riot gear descended upon us. It was loud, full of screaming, and mechanical beeping, and yelling out of orders. I held my creature’s hand, held Pyrim close against my chest, and closed my eyes. 

“Think of a wonderful thought,” was the last thing I heard Pyrim say before the world disappeared.


	20. Epilogue

Jennifer kicked off her shoes when she got through the door, only to hear the sound of humming from the kitchen. The entrance way was decorated with pictures she hadn’t seen in years. The graduation photo from high school still had her in braces. The framed photo of the crew from her old school was filled with people she never talked to anymore. The photos of university made her look far too pompous. She’d thrown out half those clothes since then, hadn’t seen that smile outside photos, hadn’t posed with her shoulders so back in ages. Each of her photos seemed worse than the last. But then she paused on one photo sneakily hiding around the corner of the hall, and smiled. It wasn’t a picture of her, but then, maybe that’s why she liked it so much. A photo like this was worth all the others put together. 

“Jen?” The voice came. “Is that you? You’re home early.” 

“The professor let me go early, he said he could handle the rest of the marking. I think he just wanted me gone because it’s a nice day.” Jennifer chuckled. “I don’t think he realizes I’m just going to spend all day at home. Hasn’t he seen my complexion? It’s not like I WANT to go outside.” 

The television blasted in the living room, trashy daytime TV talk-shows making the house sound a little less empty. The sound of sizzling was coupled with the scent of sautéing onions, mixing with the beeswax candles that still flickered in and out on the coffee table.

“I think he’s just sweet on you.”

“You think? He’s sixty-three.” 

“Well, you never know. You think he’s clueless, maybe he thinks he’s in your league.” 

“Do you think he’s in my league?” Jennifer threw the backpack down beside the coffee table and rolled his shoulders. 

“Oh, not even close. I’d knife fight him for you. In any case, he’s given you more time at home, and you can’t knock him for that. You hungry? I was making lunch.” Jennifer ducked her head in, and watched the mess of curls bob up and down as Haley twisted and stirred the pan. It was a sweet, savory smell. The woman’s arms were steady, and strong, moving with a swift and practiced talent. When she glanced back to Jennifer, there was that bright, charming smile and warm brown eyes. Her cheeks were red from working in the hot kitchen.

“You alright, Jennifer?” 

Jennifer tried to close her jaw. “I was just thinking about how much I love you.” 

“Come here, idiot.” Haley set the pan off the heat and made a motion to grab the thin and lanky woman, only to pause. 

There was a divide in the kitchen. 

“Is… Is it alright?” 

Jennifer blinked. She hadn’t realized she’d been shaking, but when she looked at her hands, she noticed just how unstable she seemed. She blinked, and the world was fuzzy, blank, a shimmering confusion of lights and color. And then she blinked again, and closed her hands into fists. Slowly, she nodded. 

Haley approached slowly, first a hand on her wrist, then her shoulder, the small of her back, and then that comforting scent wrapped around her as the other woman held her close. 

“Sorry, I just…” 

“No, it’s okay.” Haley held her in a loose grip, stroking the thin brown hair and curling it around in her fingers. She wrinkled her nose at the split ends, but smiled all the same. “I’m not mad.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely sure.”

“I promise I’m not going to leave.” 

“Oh, Jen. I know you’re not.” Haley played around with the other woman’s wedding ring, the warmest, sweetest eyes gazing over the tiniest words inscribed on the inside. They looked so much better on her hand than they’d looked on the bedside dresser the day she’d left. She pressed a kiss to the hand that had it. “You’re here with me, and I’m happy. You don’t need to do anything.” 

Jennifer was holding her breath and she couldn’t seem to stop. Not when Haley looked back up to her, not when she tipped her chin down to give her a peck on the cheek, and not when she let her look at the woman a little longer. She found her voice, then. “What about… But…” The questions burned on the back of her throat. Haley held her hand tighter. 

“We have too much time,” she said. “And there’s too much to talk about, to do, to think.” 

“But eventually.” 

“Jennifer.” Haley pressed her face against Jennifer’s neck, hiding those pretty eyes in a mess of curls. Jennifer could feel the warmth of her breath against her skin. “I spent so much time thinking. Thinking, and planning, and believing. Lying. Crying. And then… I’m with you again. I’m with you. I just want to be with you. It doesn’t matter what else happens. What else we do. What else you want. I just want you. If you… If you don’t want to have…” She trailed off.

Jennifer grabbed the woman by the waist, lifted her chin up to her face to see those sparkling tears, and kissed her sweet lips until the lady’s eyes closed and she could feel her happiness again. When she pulled away, she pressed her forehead against hers, and closed her eyes. Something moved her. She wasn’t sure what it was that kept her steady, but she was grateful she wasn’t on the floor of the kitchen.

“Soon,” Jennifer said. “When my hands stop shaking. When I can sleep again. When we’re… Better. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want… Us, to be alone. I don’t think I could bear it for the rest of my life.” 

“You’re pushing yourself too hard, Jen,” Haley said. But she smiled, and her eyes were bright again. Her mouth widened until she was grinning and placing a sweet kiss right on Jennifer’s open mouth. She took a half step back, but couldn’t get out of the possessive grip of Jennifer. She held onto the woman’s waist tight. 

“Every time I hear your voice, it feels like a dream,” Jennifer whispered. 

“It’s real,” Haley laughed. She grabbed Jennifer by the shoulders, and danced to the tune of a commercial playing on the television in the other room. Jennifer struggled to move with her, a stone seeming to weigh down both her feet. 

“I just… I spent so much time trying to pretend you didn’t exist. And now it seems like I almost succeeded. I find it so hard to believe that you’re right here, in front of me. And you’re happy.” Jennifer pulled Haley closer again, the two of them bushing heads as the commercial drew to a close.

“I’m here, Jennifer. I promise. I’m by your side. And happiness is a process.” She smiled. “Don’t think I’m just here pleased as punch, able to bounce back and forth. It’s you that let me smile again. Don’t you forget that. And don’t you go on breaking my heart again, you hear?” 

Her throat closed. “I’m sorry.” 

“And don’t you go hiding in that cave of yours, the one filled with doubt and guilt.” A hand found its way around Jennifer’s back again, and began rubbing smooth, gentle circles in that couldn’t keep her tense for long. “I’ll dig you back out and make you garden with me, just you watch.” 

“You know I can’t garden.” Jennifer grimaced, coughed out a laugh, and let her face fall on the other woman’s shoulder. 

“And I’ll make you suffer anyways,” Haley soothingly spoke by the other woman’s ear as she rubbed in hypnotic circles. “You just give yourself the time you need, and I’ll be right here for you the whole time. Making you caramelized onion omelets.” 

“I do like your omelets.” 

“You like all my cooking.” Haley grinned. “Because I am an amazing cook and you can barely do cup ramen.” 

Jennifer mischievously tugged a lock of the woman’s hair. “But it’s not that bad of a diet, is it?” 

Haley gasped, and swatted the back of Jen’s hand before she could pull away. “Jennifer Miller, I swear you’re not going to be allowed back in this house with that kind of talk.” 

Jen snorted like some kind of animal when she laughed. “Haley Miller, why I swear I think you’re saying you’re about to kick me out of own house and home. I’ll have you know I am the breadwinner of this family.” 

Haley laughed, a soft tinkling laugh that sounded like bells. “Hey, I can get any job I want, I’m just here because I know you’d be eating cup ramen every day if I wasn’t around to make your meals. You’d be useless without me.” 

Jennifer kissed the dimples on her cheeks. “I know I would,” she said softly.

Haley flushed. “I’m trying to make fun of you, stop being so sweet.” She grabbed the woman’s nose and turned it away, then pushed the woman off of her with a mischievous smile. But there was something hopeful there. Jennifer’s heart beat a little faster. 

Haley turned to the pan picked it up again, and looked with a discriminating eye over the onions she’d left to stew. “Now go sit down. Those onions look sad without heat.”

The living room was filled with all sorts of knickknacks that Haley thought it fun to keep around. Seashells, bits of wood that looked interesting, and glass rubbed smooth from the beach. If Jennifer closed her eyes and leaned back against the old, musty and comfortable couch, she could almost smell the ocean in their own home, mingled with Haley’s scent. She could hear the whooshing of the waves over the pan that began to sizzle again in the background, the ocean breeze alongside her wife’s comforting hum. She could hear the yells over the surf of the waves, the seagull’s cries, the acoustic guitar playing in the background, the fire crackling with sparks flicking up into the air.

“Faulty autopsies, scientific cults, and serious allegations! Allison says her daughter Charlie was discovered dead after a tragic accident in the river beside their house, only to have her come back less than a year later with nothing on her but bruises. Was the mother telling a hoax a chance at her fifteen minutes of fame, or is this a true case of the lady Lazarus back from the dead? Well, today that’s what we’re here to find out. It’s the miracle girl that’s astounded scientists and doctors, please welcome Charlie and her mother, Allison!” 

Her eyes shot open to the sound of uproarious applause.

On the stage, the camera panned around a little girl and her mother sitting in an armchair across from the host while the lights flashed and strobed for dramatic effect in time with the introduction sound effects. The mother’s nervous smile was dwarfed by the blinding gleam of the little girl that held her hand. The daffodils on her dark green dress were violently yellow. Across from them, the talk show host waited for the introduction to die before her cleared his throat. The audience quieted down from the cheers and clapping before he spoke.

“Alright, so let me get this straight, Allison,” he started, moving forward in his seat. “There’s quite a lot of misinformation circulating around the internet right now lately, so now’s your chance to get everything out in the open. Did you really find your daughter, alive, nearly a year after her death? 

Allison reddened, and Charlie jumped up and down on her seat. The tired looking woman coughed, and spoke with the crackle of static. “Ten months ago, my daughter… Died, in a tragic accident. I moved away from the home we’d grown up, I couldn’t live there, and I thought, maybe the city would take my mind off of things.” Allison paused then, swallowing back tears. “But then, a month ago, December 17th, I get this call. And I pick it up, thinking it’s a telemarketer, I didn’t think… I didn’t think it would be anything special, you know?” The talk show host nodded emphatically. “And that’s when I get the call that the previous residents were dealing with this girl, this girl that just showed up on their doorstep, cold and shivering, soaked to the bone and asking for her mother. I didn’t believe it at first.” 

Charlie climbed into her mother’s lap to the coos of the audience. This time, Allison couldn’t hide back the tears. The camera supplied a close up. 

“I thought it was some kind of sick joke. We never had the best time of it there in Lincoln, I’ve never been one for small towns and I expected that this was just some kind of prank. But then they said they got their phone number from her, and then they put her on. And… I remember what she said to me, she said she was such a good girl because she’d memorized her mom’s cell like she was always told she was supposed to and she knew exactly who to call. And I heard her voice, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t even think at first. I thought I hung up. I was so afraid that I had. But I didn’t, and she was still on the other line, this ghost of my little girl asking me to pick her up and crying that she was sorry that was bad, asking me not to leave her. And I had to tell her, no honey, I didn’t leave you, I didn’t mean to, but how do you explain to your little girl the reason you had to leave?” 

The host went quiet as he waited for Allison to get a hold of herself, supplying tissues for her while pictures of Charlie took up the background. 

“Did you have… The body for your daughter tested for DNA?” He finally asked. 

“The dental records were the giveaway.” The woman shook her head. “That was my Charlie. She was. And no one can ever convince me otherwise.” Her daughter held tightly onto her mother, and blinked when the talk show host moved to address her. 

“Alright, now Charlie, you told the Sun back in December that you were asleep for a very long time, right? How did that feel?”

“I didn’t feel anything,” Charlie complained. “I was just asleep, and then I wasn’t. That’s all.” 

“Alright, well, that’s an interesting story but we do have the doctors in the audience who were on the initial autopsy for the poor girl’s unfortunate accident, here to offer a differing opinion on the subject. Now, Dr. Newman, you said you had a-“ 

Jennifer turned off the television. 

Her heart wouldn’t stop beating. The thin film of cold sweat dripped down from her neck into the folds of her blouse. She placed down the remote, only to find herself shaking. 

Those memories were so clear. How had she forgotten them? Why had there been a black hole in the back of her mind, swallowing up everything it touched? 

She stood up slowly, listening now to the sound of her wife humming in the kitchen, then paused. She was going to do this. She was going to break it all apart. But this – it couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be real. And she knew. She knew it wasn’t, so it couldn’t be Haley flipping eggs and sautéing onions with her big dopey smile. 

Relief hit her when Haley was still in the room. Eggs cooked in the skillet with red peppers and a healthy dose of cheddar.

“Jen?” Haley asked. “You alright?” 

“Does any of this feel weird to you?” The words were chalk on her tongue. Even saying them required effort. Thinking them was difficult enough. 

“What, you mean… You coming home so early?” 

“No.” Jennifer took a step forward, grabbed the woman’s sleeve, and bit her lip when she felt how real it was. “No, I… The job I did, before. It…”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Haley tipped up the woman’s face, and grimaced. “Girl you’re even paler than usual.” 

“This doesn’t feel real,” she said. Jennifer was haunted. Thoughts she shouldn’t have had swirled around in her mind. 

“Jen, you’re scaring me.” Haley put down the spatula. “Are you having a panic attack? I’m right here if you are. You just remember to breathe, okay?” 

“No, I’m not…” Jennifer waved her away and gripped her head in her hands. “This… It’s so strange. I can’t seem to remember how I escaped.” 

“Can’t remember how you what?” 

“The place I worked – that world I lived in. I shouldn’t have been able to get out. I shouldn’t have survived. There were lights, always these bright lights wherever I looked. And there was Jesse Saito, and Melissa, and Reagan, and the mermaids, and the vamps, and…” She shook her head, cracking a weak grin. “I sound crazy. I’m going crazy.” 

“Jen, honey, it’s okay. I’ll believe you. Just speak slowly.” Haley offered a hand for her to squeeze, and Jennifer held it tight. 

“I was… I was in a cult, Haley. I was far. Deep. There was red tape everywhere, they knew everything about me, they could have made me disappear like I never existed. I failed. That’s what I should have had happen to me. I should have died in there. I was doing something… Something bad. Something terrible.” 

Screaming. 

“Jen… Do you… Do you want me to tell you how I found you?” 

Jennifer perked up. “You know?” 

“I found you on my doorstep, with the clothes on your back and a little backpack with a few essentials.” Haley’s face fell. “I didn’t want to talk about it because it was you, right in front of me and I thought I would never see you again. And then you never talked about it, like it never happened, like it was something you just cut out of your mind.”

The world was spinning. “But, I don’t even remember that,” I said. “I don’t know what happened before then, or up until… Until now.” She paused. “It’s like a dream. I woke up in the middle of a dream. Am I dreaming?” 

“Jen, you’re not dreaming.” Haley grabbed the woman before she could back away, and made her flinch when she nicked her with the chef’s knife. She set it back down on the cutting board as quickly as she’d grabbed it, then held her wife’s hand as she rubbed the cut. 

Jennifer stared at the bubble of red. The sharp sting settled in the front of her mind. She blinked once, then twice, then settled her eyes on Haley. 

“Alright,” she eventually said as she pulled her hand away. “You’re real. Definitely real.” 

“And don’t you forget it.” 

“Thanks for slicing my hand up, babe.” 

“Any time.” Haley wasn’t smiling. “But seriously, Jen, if something’s wrong, we could try talking to someone. Maybe it might help get your mind in order. Something’s obviously blocking your memories. Talking about it-” 

“No. No one’s going to believe this. I mean – Mermaids, Haley? Vampires? I remember this… God, this sickly troll, something so disgusting I just…” So much screaming. 

“I’ll believe it. I know what your lying looks like. I don’t know what happened, why you haven’t said a word until now, why you’re… waking up like this, but I’m here to listen. And believe you. I’m honestly relieved,” she sighed. “You never said anything since you appeared, it was like you were on autopilot this whole time. Just talking to me like the last several years never happened. What brought this on? Did you see something? Where were you?” 

“I…” A word was on the tip of her tongue. It flitted in and out of her mind, but she couldn’t seem to catch it. 

Until it finally settled in front of her. A little girl holding her phone, looking up at her with hollow eyes and speaking in monotone. ‘Your wife is very pretty.’ 

“Dahlia,” Jennifer whispered. 

“Who?”

“Dahlia,” she said it again, louder this time, afraid that if she didn’t then it would fly away again. “Her name was Dahlia.”

“Dahlia… Is she like, a… Relationship?” 

“No. No, nothing like that. A little girl. A…” Jennifer wiped her eyes of the tears she didn’t know she’d been shedding. “She was a really strong little girl.” 

“Jen, I’m not… Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“I think so. I remember. Enough, at least.” It was like shaking off dust. Those memories had been pushed to the attic of her mind. “I think… Haley, there’s some things you need to know. And it’ll sound crazy, and maybe it is, but… I think… I think I know. I think you’re real, maybe this whole thing really is real, but someone made it real.” 

“Girl, please be straight with me. Now I’m even more confused than before.”

“Haley, someone gave me a second chance. Now, I don’t want to waste it.” 

 

….

 

“Only an hour since the wipe and she’s already constructed an entire month? How are we supposed to know what’s real? How are we supposed to pick up the pieces?” 

“Exactly. All you’ve been giving us are excuses, Mr. Laurent.” 

“You still failed, and we’re still left with nothing. Less than nothing! How much money have we spent on this project?” 

“If it wasn’t for the proper drugs, our minds could have been taken with it, do you understand that? It’s a godsend that her powers are completely underdeveloped. What if we had a full-blown all-knowing god on our hands? What then, Henry? We wouldn’t be able to hide, we wouldn’t even know when the nuke hit us! There wouldn’t even be a fall left for you to take!” 

“Shut up!” Henry yelled into the screen. The rest of the board flinched back, looking at each other’s screens with affronted faces. Syn had her hand in front of her heart, and was the first to clear her mouth and speak into the microphone. The twins and the Corporal watched with withering glares. 

“Henry, you must understand our distaste for what has occurred under your watch,” she said, her voice clipped and painful. “This was meant to be the answer for all of us. This was to be the end for the Company, the beginning of Project Irongate. And instead, you pushed the schedule to a third of it’s recommended length, exacerbated unstable underlings for your own twisted fantasies, and used an all-powerful god to try and bring your sister back. Need I remind you of the true reasoning behind our work?” 

“I’m fully aware that rest of you all love to pretend you have no ulterior motives for the power of a God, you know, other than the control over all creation,” he growled. He reached for the bottle of whiskey only half full, and took another swig. “Like the Corporal isn’t doing this so he can get back at the goody-two-shoes in the government that thought themselves of better moral standing. Or Syn isn’t trying to show up all those men in the one percent that rubbed her the wrong way. Yeah, believe me, I get it. I fucked up. I’m your scapegoat.” He relished the looks of the two of them on the computer screen. It was rare that he managed to get Syn to shut up for a minute or two. “She got everything. All the records, all the memories, the logs, the everything. The entire base is wiped. There’s no record of its’ existence. The building’s been replaced with some high school. I’m barely holding on with the nmesiac pills ever since I got dumped onto a random street a dozen blocks away. And you fuckers didn’t get hit because she never even knew to hit you. So you don’t run any fucking risk, you got that?” He tried to sweep the mess of gelled hair away from his eyes, but it only seemed to look worse then he glanced up to see himself in the luminescent tank. The fish blubbed along like nothing was the matter. He hadn’t been back to this desk in months, and it was still the same as when he’d last left it.

He hated his fucking office. Marie would have hated it too. 

“What about the woman?” The elderly twin finally spoke up. The man leaned in so close that his massive nose took up nearly the entire screen. “The one that you put up to this sham of a project. Have you managed to hunt her down yet?” 

“No. Nothing. It’s like she’s disappeared off the fucking map. At least I could track the rest of the staff down, but her…” Laurent took another deep draught of the whiskey. “Her and that little bitch. Both gone. I wouldn’t have put it past the kid to have the both of them in some kind of pocket dimension and out of our jurisdiction.” 

“I would never have let this happen.” Syn sat back in the chair with crossed arms. “I was reading the files up until the wipe, and I swear, everything that came out of that project was not up to standard. Really, tranquilizer darts for a God, did you actually think that would solve anything?” 

“We lined the walls with prophitite, and we had a lock on everyone’s mind with our telepaths. She should have gotten some kind of illusion, pain, SOMETHING to stop her. I had more than one failsafe. I had secrets upon secrets keeping all of them here, all of them, all of them unable to question, and…” Laurent waved the bottle around in his hand, watching the liquid swirl. “I did everything I could. You can’t tell me you would do better. You weren’t there. You don’t realize just how much manipulation and mind wiping was required for the experiment to even get to that point.” 

“Maybe that’s why this Ms. Miller ended up performing so weakly in the end.” Syn studied her nails.

“I thought that the Damien character would add to her loyalty through an extreme, it SHOULD have. I made him perfectly. He was meant to be my ace in the hole. And in the end, I didn’t even NEED him. I checked on all the possible simulations, I ran countless mental checks, she was still listening me up to the very end.” His eyebrows furrowed. “She was still listening. That shit of a god probably pushed her out of this dimension and into another one. Whatever happened, she was still loyal. She still is. And she might be an asset. We could try to find her.” 

Syn’s mouth wrinkled into an unpleasant pucker. “An entire dimensional sweep for you to find a mind-broken failed researcher? I was expecting you to suggest we terminate her completely, Henry, not try to get her back.”

The Corporal spoke up, and Syn and Henry flicked their eyes to the top of the screen. “Laurent, I must say, your decisions have been lackluster.” His chin wobbled. Laurent’s hand closed into a fist around the whiskey. “To have this all end up with asking for your sister back? And now you want to spend more resources looking for the researcher instead of the Editor?” 

Henry slammed down the bottle. “Now YOU listen here fat man, you really think you can complain to me about a job badly done? You would have done no different. I told you all from the very beginning, when we were all still on body number one, that I was in it for Marie first and the rest of the world second. You all agreed. You all have your own agendas, let’s not pretend we all have a common, altruistic goal. You don’t want this world designed better, and neither do I. We just want it ours. That’s what we signed up for. Selfish, human reasons. Do you ever remember being human? Do you know what that was like? Do you have those memories of actually feeling the sun on your skin, or did you wipe those out because you couldn’t stand to be what you are now?” 

“You’re out of line, Laurent,” The Corporal grumbled. Henry fell back in his seat, kicked ups legs up on the desk, and smirked. 

“Yeah? Well, fuck you too.” 

“We’ve spent so much time talking of the past mistakes,” The younger twin spoke. Her voice was quiet, softer than her brother’s, but the rest of the Board found themselves struggling to listen to the compelling tone. “All of you are pointing fingers, discussing how it could have gone. As if this is some football match, and you’re discussing the tactics of the players that can now no longer be changed. What use is this? We must learn from our mistakes, and move on.” 

“Some of us need to be punished for the lack of care in these mistakes,” Syn muttered. “They must be discussed, else they are to be repeated.” 

“Fuck you, Syn.” Laurent fought the urge to mute her feed.

“You’re both behaving like children,” the young twin continued. She brushed back the white curls of hair from her face, those dark, bottomless eyes staring into the screen, and the man in the cold, bubbling office gulped. Somehow seeing something that had never been human was so much worse than seeing something that had once known life. Uncanny, steel eyes that swiveled and moved under a thin sheen of taught, pale brown skin, lined with wrinkles and nerves that flowed just beneath the skin. “Do you not realize what you are doing solves nothing?” 

“My sister is right,” The elder twin spoke up. “We must focus on answers. You claim that Jennifer Miller is in another dimension, can you prove this?” 

Henry hesitantly cleared his throat. “I can’t prove her, but I know about the Editor. Enough at least, to know she’s not on this planet anymore. She can be tracked, that particle that Jennifer found works with more than the machines that stupid computer geek mapped it onto.” He grimaced. “Definitely not in this world anymore. My guess? Some other dimension, a pocket of nothingness. We need to catch her before she lays eggs, or we’ll have an entire other world on our hands, which means a needle in a haystack. I mean, I could still find the particle, but who’s to stop her from making more of herself? Not to mention her getting more experience with her powers than she should have. She’s learning. And she’s got help. She can make cohorts.”

Laurent remembered the stupid cat. It was the figure he was more frightened of. It’s tall, imposing body made of white, the black eyes with pinpricks for pupils watching him as though he were some bug. There was strength there. Something alien, even for him. 

“Then we need to get our dimensional travel branch on this immediately,” The Corporal suggested. 

“That trial and error shit stain?” Laurent wrinkled his nose. “All they’ve managed is breaking through into glimpses of possible worlds for split seconds. And they call that a success. No, don’t let them touch this.” 

“Sounds like they need some kind of leader.” Syn raised an eyebrow. “Someone to guide them in the right direction, appoint the right people, get things on the right track.” 

Laurent gawked at the sheer audacity of his associate.

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Oh, deadly.” She smirked. “What do you think, Corporal? He’d have to take the next plane to Brazil, of course, but it’s manageable.” 

“Actually, Syn, I think you might be right,” The Corporal mused. 

Laurent went red. “What are you saying?” 

“She’s right in that a lot of your recent exploits have been failures,” the fat man warbled. “Due to the negligence of the rest of us. We should have known to put you in check. You are the youngest of us, Laurent, and because of that, your choices are immature and inexperienced.” 

“I’m only fifty years younger!” 

“Are you finished?” 

Henry sucked back the rest of the whiskey, slammed it back down on the desk, then set his feet back down and pushed his face right up against the screen. Wild eyes looked back in the reflection.

The Corporal was unmoved. He waited for the man to move back an inch before his second and third chins began to move again, directing his words with pudgy fingers. “You’re clearly inept as a director alone, because of your need to insert selfish desires. You yourself need a helping hand. Which is why I am suggesting that you and Syn work together on this dimensional recovery.” 

Syn looked like she’d swallowed a lemon, but Laurent was laughing, guffawing at the screen until spittle flew on the camera and he had to wipe it off. The coiffed woman huffed, stuttered, twisted uncomfortably in her seat, but she couldn’t get a word in edge wise while the younger man was laughing. His entire body shook, the ripped tie around his neck sliding down further until it left his suit and disappeared on the floor. He wiped away tears. 

“Alright,” he exclaimed, slamming his fist down with a grin. “Let’s do it.” 

“Corporal! You can’t be serious, this is – this is ludicrous!” Syn finally sputtered. She stood up from her chair, and the camera followed to show an unpleasant angle of her looking down. “You know that Laurent is entirely non-functional, adding him to any project would only hinder it!” 

“That’s not what you were saying a minute ago,” Henry sneered. 

“Both of you be quiet,” the Corporal snapped. 

Henry shrugged with a silent grin, and Syn held her tongue in great reluctance. The twins were silent, with unamused lines for mouths. 

“You both have your personal problems, so let me make this very clear. In order for the Company to succeed, we will need to work together. As a unit. The twins, me, and you two. We are the foundation of this organization, of this goal. If we are to have any hope of success, of finding that Editor again, we will need to pool our resources and our leadership and traverse dimensions. This is not a suggestion, not an option, this is the only way we are all going to get what we want. So you two are to work together. To solve your differences. To build off of each other. We have our own problems on our end. I’ll have to secure funding and redirect resources. The twins will have to discuss things with their superiors.” 

“I’ll ask if there’s a way through on our end,” the elder twin said. “It’s unlikely, but it’s possible.” 

“Good,” the Corporal nodded. He leaned into the camera, and Laurent got a good look at his nose hairs. “We can’t let this slip through our fingertips. We are still at the beginning of the end here. We are the Company. There is no chance, there is no maybe. I refuse to let this go. And I know you all feel the same.” 

“Gotcha,” Laurent spat. “Fuck you all, but I’ll go down with this ship.” 

“We can not afford to lose,” Syn reluctantly agreed. She’d found her seat again, but that coiffed hair was ruined. 

“That is very true,” the elder twin’s voice was choppy, and took a second for Laurent to realize he was chuckling. “You can not cash in your tab as is.” 

“She’s out there, somewhere, power waiting for us,” the younger twin whispered. “I can almost smell it.” 

Laurent’s mouth curled into a twisted grin. 

“I tasted it once. I’m not going to let it get away again.” 

 

….

 

The girl sat in the dark. A creature, its faceless head sat atop tall, thin shoulders, illuminated the nothing and allowed her and her pet cat to watch. There was nothing to see. The floor was cold, and stony. 

“Where are we?” The creature asked. 

“I don’t know,” she answered softly. 

“The void,” the cat said. He took one step, then another, then he was bounding around the spaceless world with joyful laughter, intermittently supplemented with purrs and meowing. “We’re in the void.” 

The girl frowned, wiping her eyes. Smiling still felt strange to her, but there was a small chuckle burning in her throat as she watched the cat. Incomprehensible thoughts danced through her mind, and focusing on the two in front of her was the only thing that kept her from collapsing. “What’s the void? I just wanted to leave.” 

“This place is scary,” the creature beside her said. It reached closer for her, rubbing its head against her shoulder, and she patted the things chest before she herself stood up on unsteady legs. The newborn dear approached the void with a mind collapsed and swimming, full of memories impossible to separate. Jennifer. Mom. Charlie. Remmy. The Company. All of it passed by her in the blink of an eye. She couldn’t hope to grasp it, but thinking about it too much made her throat tighten. She had to focus on something else. The void. 

The darkness that encapsulated the world. That was the world. 

“It’s just dark,” she said. “It’s not that scary, right?” She turned around to face the creature, and a weak grin slowly crept onto her face. Her cheeks burned, so unused they were from such an expression. “You’re lighting up the world, you know.” 

Pyrim sped by, padding against the floor with only the quiet clicking of his paws. The sound was enough to distract her. “The whole universe!” He said. “Not just the world - this is the everything! An entire dimension – no, an entire EVERYTHING. Untouched. Like existence isn’t there, like the world doesn’t exist. The void is nothing. The only reason we’re here, the only reason there’s even a ground, air, an anything at all, that’s you Dahlia! That’s all you! You’re already building and you don’t even know it!” He pounced up into her arms with delighted eyes, pawed at her face, but slowed when he saw the pain in her face. Memories. A monotone voice that watched her sister fall to the water and die and start all of this. It was her fault. All of it was her fault. She had been a monster, she was a monster. All of those things that had come from her lips without remorse. But more than that, was the chill she had recalled in her own body. The warmth of creation filled her mind now, her very being, and with it came a soul she hadn’t had before. To remember the hollow former self, she… she couldn’t… She couldn’t be. 

“Dahlia?” He asked. 

“I’m not Dahlia,” she said, and placed the cat back down on the ground, her eyes distantly focused on the past she promised herself she wouldn’t look at it. Debilitating cold. The thoughts that had so easily gone through her head, the lack of care. All she could feel now, all she knew, was the pain of the others around her. Knowing what she could do to them if she wasn’t careful. Knowing what a monster like Dahlia would do if she had this power and the chill of someone lacking the care to wield it. But that was her, wasn’t it? 

She walked back a few steps without meaning to, and the creature rushed to catch her before she fell to the ground. 

“Who are you then?” it asked her. Innocent curiosity blinked back at her with big, black holes for eyes. The girl’s breath was taken away, blinking at it as its hand gently stroked her cheek. “What are you?” It added.

Pyrim padded up beside the two of them and prodded the creature’s leg with a paw. “She’s a human, a girl. She used to have that name. She…” He trailed off, sounding uncomfortable. “She still SHOULD. I don’t understand. There’s nothing different, is there? Dahlia, what’s wrong?” 

The girl winced. Every time she heard that name, lightning crackled and the memories of a creature capable of everything appeared again. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “I just… I see too much. It’s all too much.” But it was her. She had to admit that it was her. Or had been. She could still feel it, under all of the confusion, all of the memories, all of the colors now trapped in her head and muted with the protection of the creature that held her. Dahlia was still there. She was still her, in some strange way. She couldn’t forget the name, but hearing it just burned. 

“What do you see?” The creature asked. 

“Everything. People I hurt. People I wanted to hurt. Things I did. Things I felt.” She searched her mind for the swirling memories of pain and suffering. The screams. The judgment. The selfishness. What she had done to those that cared about her. Overwhelming sadness ripped through her, and a wail found its way to the tip of her lips. “It’s like –“ She sat back in the creature’s arms and raised her arms wide apart, and shouted the darkness beyond. The thing looked back at her in wonder as the tears came. “There’s a rift, a deep gouging scar within my mind, finally latched together and showing me everything! All of it! Inside my head, all this thought, this… This emotion! It’s terrifying. Like… I know who I was.” she hugged the creature tight. “I know what happened, I remember all of it, and that’s why it hurts. Because I know what I did now. I can see it. I loved… I never loved my mom. I never loved anyone. I don’t think I could. And all that time all I did was hurt.” Hiccups replaced words, her stuttering getting the better of her as she stopped then, her face screwed up in pain. She started to wail, a long, shrieking, sharp sound, and the creature clutched her tightly until it was over. The white figure sat back down, the bright illuminating the dark. 

The sobs of an Editor made tremors throughout the nexus of shadow. 

Pyrim approached the girl tentatively once more, finally finding purchase on her lap as he wormed his way between the two. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“How can you ask what’s wrong? You were there. The whole time.” Her face was covered in snot, her eyes red, and her entire front soaked with tears. “You saw the way everything happened. You know what happened to Charlie. What I did to her. What I did to everything. Everything I feel – everything I wished I could feel. I almost wished it was all gone. I hate it. All of it. It’s so – it’s so much. My head is full of everything and it almost hurts.” 

“I can use my hands again,” the creature immediately held up its long slender fingers, but the girl merely grimaced as she pushed them away. 

“It’s not that kind of pain. It doesn’t just go away. And I’m not sure that it’s something that should.” 

“What do you mean?” It asked her, but Pyrim already knew. He licked his paw, but his eyes kept their focus on the girl. Worry was eating him up inside, but he had to hold his tongue. She was new, too new, and finding herself was something only she could do. There would be time later to teach her, to teach to forget the past if that was what was to be required. But for now, she needed to remember. She needed to know, for her own sanity. An Editor needed to be stable, to be strong, and to understand the pain they were capable. Destruction would echo in the wake of an uncaring God. 

“I don’t know what anything is anymore. Every time I think of a person, all I can think about is them. I feel them, every part of them. I know them. I am them.” She stroked Pyrim’s head gently, and wiped her eyes with her free hand. “I know Pyrim. I made him. I can feel him, everything about him. He knows things. A green aura. Bright. And annoying,” she choked a laugh out, hollow as it was. She was still trying.

Pyrim purred. Laughter through the pain was the best medicine. She would find herself soon enough, whatever name she chose to go by. 

“And what am I?” The creature asked. 

“You’re… White,” she said uncertainly. “It’s different with you. I dunno.” 

The cat went rigid. 

“White?” The creature echoed, like a child. “But doesn’t everybody get color? You had all those colors in your eyes before.” 

“But you stopped them,” she argued. “So you shouldn’t have any color. You’re absence of color.” 

The creature drooped, but her mouth quivered, and she squished Pyrim between them as she hugged it as hard as she could. “Don’t feel sad.” She whispered. “Stop it – stop being sad, it’s going to make me sad. I hate this, I hate feeling sad, I hate this so much!” She was crying again. “Why can’t I stop crying,” she muttered. “I can’t even think.”

Pyrim, squeezing his head out from between the two of them, proceeded to clamber out from the rest of their grip. It wasn’t difficult for a cat, but he still had to catch his breath once he’d finally escaped. 

He turned back around to the girl he cared for, the crying mess that she was, the drops of tears dotting her lashes and the ugly wails that echoed in the otherwise silent void. He then turned his attentions to the world around then. The shadows lengthened as the creature shifted and moved with the throes of a young girl in a rollercoaster of emotions. 

“How does anyone live like this?” She whined. “My mother was so nice – she was so nice, all I ever did was be mean, that’s all I ever did. I can’t even see her again, what if they see me? What if they know that I was there? What if they run after us?” 

“They won’t,” Pyrim called back to her, his wary eyes still on the world that seemed more and more hostile by the minute. She needed to be calm. She needed grace. The darkness was already starting to close in upon them, and it all was all too soon. 

“But they could!” 

“They can’t find us here. And you covered your tracks well. You don’t need to keep crying forever, you already did as much as you could for the world before you left it.” More than he’d expected. She had talent, and tact when she wasn’t in the midst of playing with the emotions so new to her. 

“I miss Jennifer,” the girl whimpered against the chest of the worried creature. It patted her shoulder awkwardly. 

“Who’s Jennifer?” It asked. 

“The woman who tortured her,” Pyrim scoffed. “Dahlia – I-I mean, Editor. Don’t think about her, too much. You already did more than she deserved.” 

“She tried. She wanted to try. She wanted to do so much – it’s all that stupid Company’s fault. I hate them. I wanted to destroy them all.” She whimpered. “All of that pain and suffering wasn’t just because of me. They were the blame, too. What they did was wrong. Evil.” 

Pyrim sighed, grateful now for emotions that kept her in check. “I told you, they had families. Lives. The people there weren’t what you think they are. There were real, honest people among them. Sweeping statements like that are dangerous.” 

“I don’t care,” she grumbled. “I hate them.” 

“Get used to hating things,” said Pyrim. “It’s going to happen often. Get used to being sad. Get used to caring. Because it’s going to happen an awful lot.” 

“I don’t like it,” She muttered. 

“Neither I do, Editor,” Pyrim chuckled coldly to himself. She grumbled behind him, then swung her body around, half out of the creature’s grip, to get a better look at the cat. 

“Hey! Aren’t you meant to be my cat or something?” She wiped her eyes again, glaring half-heartedly at him.

He looked back at her, and he couldn’t help but smile. Tears in her eyes, snot dribbling down her face, red around the cheeks and eyes, and looking almost as annoyed as she’d been before. The little girl was still herself, somewhere deep down. 

“Terribly sorry, Editor, allow me to check myself and bow before speaking to you.” He turned around, bowed the front half of his body, then stood with his eyes gleaming. His body trembled with a purr when he saw the slow smile grow on his Editor’s face. 

She pressed her head back against the creature’s chest. The girl slowly raised her hand up, studied it for a moment, then closed her eyes. 

“It isn’t terrible to laugh,” she said softly. 

The shadows around her ceased, and the darkness quieted. Pyrim padded up to her and brushed his head against her leg. She pet his ears for a moment, then clambered out from the creature’s grip to get onto her own two feet again. Her eyes opened on the world that didn’t exist. 

“It’s going to take getting used to,” Pyrim offered. 

“That’s an understatement.” 

“I know you can do it. You’re the strongest person I know.” 

“I’m just a little girl,” she muttered. 

“Don’t lie to yourself. Look at where you’ve taken us.” He blinked up at her. “And have you tried it yet?” 

“Tried what?” 

“Making something.” 

She paused. “… What should I make?” 

Pyrim chuckled, leaning up against her leg. “Anything, Editor. Anything you want.”

“Okay… So just… Imagine, it, right? That’s all I have to do, think it, and suddenly it’s there. If I want it hard enough, then it’ll just show up. That’s all I got to –“

“And don’t talk so much or you’ll get distracted.” 

“Shush! I’m trying to focus.” 

“Alright, alright.” 

The Editor raised her fingers slowly in front of her, closed her eyes, flexed her fingers, and imagined.


	21. Author's Note

Hello. How are you.

So, Editor is over. And no one’s really read this. That’s to be expected, it’s not porn or anything. Understandable. And it’s not going to stop me, I have two other books planned. Editor is only just beginning. You haven’t seen the Seventeenth, you haven’t met Shift, Cassidy or Advisor, and you haven’t seen how every story on my account is linked back to this one first story. We’ll get there soon enough. Editor is a nexus, complicated and full of meta, with so many mesmerizing, unique characters that it’s hard to keep them all together. At the center of it is the Editor, a little girl, who was once very lonely.

A little girl who helped to destroy the world.

If anyone has any questions about the story, feel free to ask.

THIS STORY USED MUSIC TO BE CREATED. IT WAS A LONG AND HARROWING JOURNEY. EACH SONG HAS BEEN DISTILLED INTO THE CHAPTERS.

Jennifer and Dahlia’s theme, and the main theme of the story: Cepheid – Chronos (feat. UN3h) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E6ZSQvHuBOs

Dahlia’s theme: Sub Urban – Cradles https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hn4sfC2PbhI

Other themes:

Cepheid – Colors Fading https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fM_7Altk-yw

Jubyphonic – Lost One’s Weeping https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZHXSN6lEEw

Cepheid – Gaia https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZvrKO763Mc

STAY TUNED FOR MORE EDITOR, NOW WITH BEST CAT.

 

(you're gonna be seeing more of her too)

 

BONUS HUMAN!PYRIM

 

Want to see more art and serious spoilers? 

Lookit my Deviantart!

<https://www.deviantart.com/cassidy-nighthawk> 

 

**Author's Note:**

> “Am I therefore your enemy, because I tell you the truth?” Galatians 4:16 
> 
> "The Lord is a Man of War." Exodus 15:3


End file.
